Finite Incantatem
by Atlantis Founded
Summary: "Deeper than that, she not only has to trust me, she has to believe that there is good in me worth having faith in. And that, I cannot help her with. She is destined to recede into the shadows." Can Snape save this bitter Hermione Granger?
1. Prologue

Prologue

She lay on the floor, in pools of her own blood. When he entered the cell, the hope glimmered briefly.

"Hermione…" he said. "I'm here."

She blinked twice to clear the image before her and he placed a hand on her face. The warmth was comforting, the coldness of the dungeon having engulfed her those past weeks. Pain radiated through her body, her hands staked to the floor, blood in shallow pools beneath them. With a flick of his wand they vanished and a few murmurs began to seal the wounds on her hands and face. A broken image of the witch she used to be swirled around her and the yellow grey cloud of her essence began to float back into her.

"I believed you," she murmured but behind that, in her mind, he could hear her, _I trusted you and you betrayed me. _Her thoughts stung him deeply. He could only look at the broken form, watching her mind recede into itself.

"Finish this, please," she pleaded with him.

He looked down at her, the pain in her eyes as he joined her mind to capture fleeting images of memories of the last weeks. Her horror made him gasp as he looked at her, and in that moment she had given up.

"Hermione, I can heal you" he answered.

"Please, end this now," she begged.

He raised his wand and a tear trickled down his face. Her expression had changed as his wand was raised and she looked relieved, peaceful. As he opened his mouth to end her suffering, there was nothing but stillness and quiet before the sky erupted in a peach hue. The mark on his arm tinged for but a moment before the skin pulled taut. The mark was no more, now all that remained was raised, white, scarred flesh.

"It's over, Hermione," he said, putting his wand down.

She looked back at him and the pain returned.

"Finish me, Professor," was all she spoke.

"Hermione, it's over, the war is over, we've won."

She only sobbed beneath him and as her hope of release faded away behind a veil of darkness; she looked at him and said only one thing:

"I hate you"

The good in her regretted it the moment it was spoken, but that fell behind the veil, in a vortex that focused her pain and anger into one single object. He stood up and turned around to gather his cloak. She watched his retreating figure and when he returned with the cloak to wrap her, she was unconscious. He wouldn't know that seeing him walk away from her had caused her to slip so much further.


	2. Chapter 2

Three weeks earlier

The four stood surrounded by Death Eaters. Harry, Ron and Draco were holding the magical net together while Hermione and Ginny were channeling their powers beyond it. They watched as the Death Eaters cast their curses and saw the magic captured within the net. When Ginny was sure they all had cast, she and Hermione grasped hands and chanted their incantation. The net dropped and the curses cast within the net were repelled back to their masters, killing them. As they surveyed the damage, they were never to know who remained to cast the last spell, the one that bounced off the vestiges of the net and penetrated Ginny Weasley. Hermione shrieked and as she ran to her friend, she felt herself swept up into a dark cloud.

When she awoke, her arm ached, the bone broken. Her shoulder was oddly numb and she knew she had dislocated it. Trying to determine her surroundings, she found herself magically bound to a large stone. The field around her seemed familiar, but more from a memory that wasn't her own than any place she had ever been. The hooded figures around her began to come into fuller form for her. She looked around in search of a way out when she heard him howl with maniacal delight.

"Oh, Ms Granger, surely you don't think you can escape me?" he hissed. "Your magic is quite powerful indeed, magic that I need," he spoke as he circled around her. "You and your friends have killed many of my faithful servants, but not all of them of course." With those words spoken, the figures moved closer and they began to remove their hoods. She recognized many of the faces, Lestrange, Crabbe, and Malfoy. "Ms Granger, your magic will be…transferred to me."

She swallowed before glaring at him, "you will have to kill me to take my magic."

He laughed hard, "yes, you would say that wouldn't you. But it needn't come to that. You will give your magic to one of my followers and then they will give it to me."

She simply stared at him, unsure of his meaning. As she puzzled through it, she could feel someone probing into her thoughts.

_Ms Granger, _the voice said, she immediately recognized it as Severus Snape, _do exactly as I instruct. _She tried to reach back to him and ask him questions when she was startled back to her captors.

"I need a volunteer," he said, "someone to join with Ms Granger for this exercise."

As Malfoy stepped forward to open his mouth, Snape interjected "I request this mission."

"Severus," he hissed, "I hadn't expected you to volunteer, it isn't usually your…style."

"Her mind is strong my lord, no one but you or I could possibly penetrate it and capture her magic without destroying themselves, her magic along with it. I am the only one capable of this task," he explained.

"Very well, Severus, take your prize," he offered before floating away. 

A seething Lucius Malfoy was the last to disapparate. Snape walked over to Hermione and looked down at her. Her fear was palpable but she was skilled enough in Occlumency to shield the others from her thoughts and memories. He reached out, _you will need to trust me and do not say anything. _She blinked her eyes to indicate she understood. His left arm drew back and smacked her hard against the cheek, blinding her for a moment by the surprise more than the pain. He jerked her up by the broken right arm, feeling her shoulder snap further out of its joint. She said nothing and she didn't cry, only closed her eyes and winced at the immense pain she was feeling.

_Ms Granger this will be unpleasant but you must do exactly as I say_, he repeated. She blinked again to acknowledge him and sent one message back to him, _I trust you. _He dragged her into the house directly across from the field and down into the cellar. He threw her roughly into a cell and entered behind her.

_This arrangement protects you from anyone else. There are…requirements and you must listen very carefully to my instructions. _He knew that her complete compliance in every step was crucial. If Voldemort or any of the Death Eaters knew of their connection, there would be severe repercussions.

He walked towards her and pulled at her cloaks. He took his right hand and placed his fingertips at her temple, linking them so she could hear his thoughts as well as he could hear hers. _I will protect you, we are linked and I can hear your thoughts._ She delved into his head. Her eyes registered the terror and she knew when she caught a shadow of his thoughts what had to be done. He knew that she knew. _He will know if this is not done. _She blinked again. He pushed her to the floor and jerked her trousers and panties off in a swift motion. He could hear her thoughts. Quickly, he pulled his own trousers down and positioned himself between her legs. _You must resist, don't make this look easy, _he told her. She kicked at him and clawed as he wrestled with her legs and arms, she bit down on his hand, hard, and he was relieved to see her resistance. He pinned her arms above her head in one hand and pushed her legs apart.

She turned her head to one side and softly sobbed. He could feel her body shake all around him. _Scream Ms Granger. _She couldn't open her mouth. He grabbed her face and penetrated her eyes with his stare and she knew. She opened her mouth and screamed as he quickly finished the task at hand. Her eyes were focused on his face and he turned his head as her screams subsided into soft whimpers. Before completing, he turned his head to the side unable to look at her face. The back of her neck burned for just a moment, his mark was on her now and they would know she was branded. When he pulled off of her, he rolled to one side and wept silently, tearlessly as he felt her retreat into the recesses of her own memories.


	3. Chapter 3

It was very much Snape's intention to protect Hermione Granger. Before he left her that evening, he had promised her as much and she blinked back in belief. She repeated to him, _I trust you. _The events following her branding were beyond his control, and as he was pulled between Dumbledore and Voldemort, the connection with her began to fade. He could hear echoes and he tried to reach out to her, to find out what was happening. There were only shimmers, vague images of faces and colors when he tried to find her and then there was nothing but a shroud of darkness, an emptiness that was feared for its coldness. _Good, she's blocking them out, _he thought.

His report to Dumbledore's portrait was a sketch of the predicament. As he and Minerva McGonagall listened to Snape's story, the true horror of the revelation was not lost. Dumbledore gave one final instruction to him.

"Save the prisoners." Snape nodded, he knew that those imprisoned by Voldemort and his Death Eaters would be quickly executed when the battle began. He knew that when the time came, he would need to free as many of them as possible for Hermione's spell to work. As Snape prepared to leave their conference, Minerva stopped him,

"Protect her, Severus," was all she said. He nodded at her and left to make preparations for the rescue.

Voldemort did not have the chance to capitalize on Hermione's magic. The net that Harry, Ron, Draco, Hermione, and Ginny had constructed changed the playing field. Borne of good magic and hope, when the Death Eaters tried to recreate the magic, their efforts nearly destroyed them all. As the last of the Death Eaters stormed Hogwarts and the last horcrux was destroyed, Snape knew it was time to put his plan into motion.

Apparating to each holding where Voldemort's prisoners remained was time consuming. Each prisoner was captured for a special reason and each one was protected by specific dark wards and Death Eaters. Moving as swiftly but carefully as possible to free them, he replaced their wands and gave them the incantation. As they each moved outside where they were held, they raised a wand to the sky and repeated the incantation, holding it strong. The forces of Hermione's spell were weakening the stronghold where Voldemort fought. With each witch or wizard joined, he became weaker, Harry Potter became stronger, and the war neared its end.

The last prisoner he had to release was Hermione Granger. Feeling certain that she was safe because of the branding, he saved her for last. As he got closer, he began to hear her in his mind. _Professor Snape will come, Professor Snape will come, Professor Snape will come._ Over and over, all that repeated was this affirmation and he began to panic as he heard her pleas for help. When he entered her cell, the smell of fear and horror greeted his nose. Across the room, an emaciated, bloodied Hermione Granger was staked to the ground.

His mind raced. _This wasn't supposed to happen. The branding should have protected her. No one should have been able to touch her without my knowing it. _He tried to probe her mind for answers but ran into a wall. All he could hear was the repetition, _Professor Snape will come, Professor Snape will come. _Hermione's mind had built a wall to keep her torturers out. In doing so, she blocked out the one person who could have helped her.

Snape sank to his knees at her side. Her head was turned to one side, her eyes open, tears slowly dripping across her face. When he touched her face to look into her eyes, he was flooded with memories. His skin burned and he let out a hiss as he saw the events of the weeks play out before him.

Malfoy's displeasure had having been denied his prize had led him to unspeakable acts. He saw her writhe in pain under _Crucio_, he watched her back laid open as _mastigatus,_ the whippingcurse, moved from Malfoy's mouth. He could hear her memories, her mind trying desperately to reach him but blocked by the wall she had erected to protect her from Malfoy. He watched through her eyes as Malfoy brutally raped her and he saw her fight against him before he staked her hands to the floor. And each time Malfoy brought himself to her, the brand registered the betrayal of her body and sent pains coursing through her body. The simple, but dark magic, had no way to differentiate between a forced betrayal and one of her own passions, it simply registered that the body inside her did not belong to Severus Snape.

"I believed you," she murmured but behind that, in her own mind, he could hear her, _I trusted you and you betrayed me. _Her thoughts stung him deeply. He could only look at the broken form , watching her mind recede into itself.

"Finish this, please," she pleaded with him.

Snape pulled out of her mind and worked to repair what damage he could. She had never asked him for anything else. Never asked him to be gentle, never asked him to rescue her; she only had asked him to release her.

He looked down at her, the pain in her eyes as he joined her mind to capture fleeting receding images of her memories of the last weeks. Her horror made him gasp as he looked at her, and in that moment she had given up.

"Hermione, I can heal you" he answered.

"Please, end this now," she begged.

He raised his wand and a tear trickled down his face. Her expression had changed as his wand was raised and she looked relieved, peaceful. As he opened his mouth to end her suffering, there was nothing but stillness and a deafening quiet before the sky erupted in a peach hue. The mark on his arm tinged for but a moment before the skin pulled taut. The mark was no more, now all that remained was raised, white, scarred flesh.

"It's over, Hermione," he said, putting his wand down.

She looked back at him and the pain returned.

"Finish me, Professor," was all she spoke.

Confused, he reiterated, "Hermione, it's over, the war is over, we've won."

She only sobbed beneath him, and as her hope of release faded away behind a veil of darkness, she looked at him and said only one thing:

"I hate you"

The good in her regretted it the moment it was spoken, but that fell behind the veil, in a vortex that focused her pain and anger into one single object. He stood up and turned around to gather his cloak. She watched his retreating figure and when he returned with the cloak to wrap her, she was unconscious. He wouldn't know that seeing him walk away from her had caused her to slip so much further.


	4. Chapter 4

Snape picked up the unconscious form of Hermione Granger, wrapped her in his cloak, and moved outside. The ordinarily dreary sky had peaked with rays of orange and yellow. He apparated to Hogwarts, rushing inside with his dying student.

The evidence of battle was all around, but even where there should have been only images of destruction, an aura of new birth was rising, cleansing the air. The evil had dissipated and balance had shifted back to good. Instead of basking in the warmth of this victory, he hurried past the injured towards the castle. Before he could enter the main doors, Minerva McGonagall caught sight of him and rushed to see who he was carrying.

"Severus!" she yelled. He ignored her and picked up the pace of his walk before she caught up to him. "Severus Snape! Where are you going? Who is tha…" she saw a small hand fall from the cloak, trembling and a length of curls escaping over his elbow. "My gods, what happened Severus?" she inquired. "I haven't the time to answer that, now kindly let me pass, I must get to my rooms." He could hear calling to him as he sped past the main hall and down into the dungeons.

Snape unwrapped Hermione and placed her in a warm bath. Finally able to assess the damage, he could see the whipping scars on her back and the thick white scars where the stakes ground through her palms. Around the discolorations and swelling on her face, he could see a white scar that ran from her forehead, across her right eye, down her jaw, over her lip, down her neck and into her chest. He had tried to quickly keep her from bleeding to death on the floor of the cell and didn't have the chance to see where the puddles of blood drew their source. Cleansing her in the warm bath and administering potions, she awoke but said nothing. She stared blankly at the wall and when he turned her to him, there was nothing – no recoil, no horror, no anger, just emptiness. He drew her from the tub and wrapped her in fresh towels, drying her hair and moving her to his bed.

He laid her in the bed and pulled the covers around her. She lay on her side and cried silently, eyes open but not registering any of her surroundings. Beneath the covers, he could see her hands trembling, a nasty effect of sustained _Crucio. _He knew how long she had to have suffered to have developed that lasting tremble.

Snape tried to probe her mind but found nothingness. She had sealed herself behind the wall in her mind and even the branding couldn't allow him entry. The harder he tried to reach her, the more she resisted, the brand burning red and bleeding on the back of her neck for her disobedience. When he saw the small pool of blood on the sheets, he realized he was causing her pain. He applied a cooling salve to her neck and didn't try to find her again.

He watched her drift to sleep in his bed from the chair across the room. He heard his doors open and felt the two visitors arrive. Minerva and Poppy stood at his door and looked at the sleeping image of Hermione and a defeated Severus Snape.

"What happened to her, Severus," Poppy asked.

"Unspeakable things, Madam Pomfrey, unspeakable things."

"Perhaps I can help her," she offered.

"She has been healed as well as she can be, the…evidence is irreversible," he said.

"What do you mean?" Minerva asked.

"Dark magic was not designed to be reversible. Her wounds are healed but her scars will remain. They are supposed to serve as a warning should there ever be survivors. No amount of magic can change it."

Minerva pushed a strand of hair away from Hermione's temple and stepped away puzzled. "Severus, what's happening to her hair?"

"Heavens, Minerva, she's been tortured and… and you're worried about her hair?" he demanded.

"Look at her," she persisted. When he looked down to see the drying chestnut curls he saw her hair was more a slightly waved dark brown.

"Dark magic, she has been touched to her core, this won't be the last change we see in Hermione Granger." He paused before telling them, "Now, let her be. She will need someone to care for her soon. I can take care of the effects of the magic on her body but someone needs to help her repair her mind."

Minerva looked at Severus and said, "I'll find Molly."


	5. Chapter 5

Three months later

The Great Hall had been repaired and the school year was beginning. A fresh group of first-year students were being led in and one by one sorted into their houses. As they sat down to begin the feast, the Headmistress began.

"Welcome students," McGonagall said, "I trust you will quickly find yourselves ensconced in your studies and delighting in all a new school year offers. The valiant efforts of the many have paved this way for you and I trust you will respect the sacrifices made to allow you to be here." The chattering stopped as the students reflected on all that was lost to preserve Hogwarts. "We begin this year with many changes. Severus Snape will be teaching Potions once again and our new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher will arrive shortly. I trust you will respect the faculty here as they try to guide you towards your destiny. May the feast begin."

Snape was in a sour mood at the table. McGonagall had refused to share with anyone who the new DADA teacher would be. He had no interest in teaching the course so was somewhat relieved, comfortable back in his dungeons with his potions and cauldrons. He was sure this group of first-years looked younger and stupider than the last. As he ate his dinner and tried to ignore Professor Flitwick's chatter, he felt a cold breeze around him. He looked up to see a hooded figure enter the hall, unnoticed by the students.

The headmistress smiled and left her chair to greet the figure and guide them to the table. As Minerva showed her a place beside her on the other side of the table, he saw the hood removed to reveal a shortly cut head of black hair. He knew it was a woman. The small frame gave that away and her jet black hair was no more than an inch long all around her head, sloping down the back. He watched, intrigued to see who this figure was, and when she turned around, he saw what could only be Hermione Granger. The scar on her face was faded but present. She sat down and raised her glass, the tremble still present in her hands.

She could feel him watching her and she turned to look at him, staring him directly into his eyes. The brown eyes of the impish girl in his potions classroom were replaced by a stare of cold, grey eyes. He tried to reach out to her mind and she shoved him out so forcefully he lost his breath. She drew her hand quickly to the back of her neck, and he knew her branding had caused her pain to reject him. There was nothing but coldness in her presence. He was afraid of her.

"You have got to be joking, Minerva!" he shouted in her office later that evening.

"What did you want me to do Severus? She has nowhere to go, no family, and her friends are terrified of her. The only person she talks to is Molly Weasley," she answered.

"So you thought it would be safe to bring her here, in a castle full of children?" he barked.

"Severus, you and I both know that she is incapable of harming another living thing."

"Really, so I suppose that's why she's been hired as the Defense against the Dark Arts professor? Because she's so harmless?" he countered.

"Well, she made a rather convincing argument…" she said with an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, and I can't wait to hear what argument that is," he replied sarcastically.

Minerva paused for a moment, "She simply pointed out, who better to teach students the effects of dark magic?"

Snape was silent. She was right. There was no other witch or wizard who could know what she knew and no one intelligent enough to get through that kind of material.

"Professor Snape, I know this is difficult, but I trust you'll be able to come to an arrangement with Professor Granger," Minerva instructed.

"I understand Headmistress. Under the circumstances of our…connection, I will endeavor to stay out of Professor Granger's way." He stood to walk away.

"Severus?" she called.

"Bloody hell, woman, what do you want now?" he said.

"That's not the only reason I've asked her here…"


	6. Chapter 6

"And, what in blazes do you mean by that?" he asked.

"Severus, you've seen her, she's…different," Minerva answered.

"She's different? Of course she's different. Her whole life has been changed by a single event and she feels be- … she's scarred."

Snape knew she was different and he knew why she was different. He had kept the secrets of her capture and torment, unsure if she wanted anyone to know the extent of what happened.

Minerva watched the man deep within his own thoughts, puzzling through something that she couldn't work out. I thought maybe with your experience with the dark arts, you might be able to figure out what curse she was put under to turn her like this."

"Minerva, you have no idea what you're talking about. Ms Granger isn't cursed, not in the sense you mean, she's cursed." The headmistress looked at him quizzically. "Minerva, she's damned."

The term began with little drama, the occasional spat amongst friends and harmless mischief. Hermione found herself involved with her work but failing to find the same relish that she once found in the discovery and exploration of a subject. Her students enjoyed her classes and never caused problems. They respected her, they knew the net was her idea and it was her spell that allowed Harry Potter to defeat Voldemort. They were also terrified of her.

She sat in her rooms, grading first-year papers when she uttered, "Come in Headmistress."

McGonagall opened the door and walked across the room. "I have to admit Professor Granger, it is a little unnerving that you know I'm nearing your rooms before I've knocked."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and continued grading.

Minerva tried again, "If I didn't know better, I'd swear you had the Marauder's Map. You three got into so much-"

Hermione interrupted, "is there something I can help you with Headmistress?"

Refocusing, "No, Professor, I was merely checking on how you were settling in. I like to make sure new staff are finding their way as we begin."

"I'm doing very well. The first-years are making adequate progress, I'm a bit concerned with the third-years, I don't feel they had a solid foundation so they're struggling to catch up to where they should be while also staying on the curriculum. The sixth-years and seventh-years are apprehensive and I know that many of them are scared of this course," she reported.

"Understandable," the headmistress nodded, "they've seen so much and their discomfort is most likely evidence of what they witnessed in the battle."

"Yes, I know," Hermione said, "I'm taking all the necessary precautions and we're working slowly through the coursework. I think they'll get through this, but I'm not sure I would expect an enthusiastic group of future aurors out of this lot. They need more time."

"Mm, yes, I imagine you're correct," McGonagall agreed. She watched the witch continue to mark papers, seeing the tremble in her hands. The scar that ran down her face could not be ignored. "Well, I will let you get on with your work. Faculty meeting tomorrow morning before breakfast. I will see you there?"

"Of course, Headmistress, thank you for checking in," and with that she went back to her marking and let the Headmistress see herself out.

"Albus, I can't get through to her," Minerva complained. "She's just…not there. She is Hermione Granger but she's not…whole."

The portrait nodded at her. "I suggest you find the root of her problem, Minerva, before it's too late," he offered.

"What do you mean?" she inquired.

"I think you should talk to Severus, he may be better able to help you with this."

"Albus, I've spoken to Severus, he doesn't care and has no inclination to help her. After all she's been through, you'd think he'd try to offer some suggestion for us, something we could try," she said as she paced the floor.

"I think her salvation lies in the root and I hold that Severus Snape may be the only one who can help her."

McGonagall sighed as she left her office and proceeded to her rooms to think about Albus' words.


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione was the last person to enter the room for the meeting. The only seat that remained was next to Snape so she leaned against the wall to hear the Headmistress' instructions. Snape peered at her, her eyes still a cold grey, her hair the color of coal. As she pushed invisible hairs behind her ears, he watched her hands shake and saw the raised white scar on the top of her hand. The robes pulled close to her neck and high toward her hairline. She could not hide the scars on her face or hands but she had worked hard to keep the trail of the scar and its length secret. Although her hair was cut so close, her robes were strategically placed to hide the branding on the back of her neck.

As McGonagall began to talk about rounds, quidditch, and general updates, Snape drowned her out and began to think about what went wrong. _I should have been able to hear her. Why didn't I go to her when I met the silence? Why didn't I think that the block prevented her from calling out as much as it kept Malfoy from peering in? Malfoy! _He had disappeared when the war had ended and was yet to be found. His son and wife had been playing the dutiful part of Death Eater family while hoping to see the end near and Lucius Malfoy destroyed with Voldemort. When the end came and Malfoy was not accounted for, they assumed his death and moved on. Draco was even decorated for his help in the protection of Hogwarts and the creation of the net.

The staff members went around giving updates of their own. New plants in Herbology, textbooks that needed replacing for History of Magic, and other droning. Snape wasn't even aware they were waiting for him until he heard McGonagall clear her throat. He quickly composed himself to give his bland report.

"First-years are dunderheads. I have had to replace 11 cauldrons this semester. Some sixth-years decided to brew a love potion instead of a healing salve. When it exploded in the classroom, I had 20 teenagers trying to snog each other senseless. It took several spells to clean them up and some of the cauldrons still sigh when I walk by them. Otherwise, nothing to report," he said.

He looked to Hermione who held her tea in trembling hands.

"I have nothing of note," she said. "The students are less than eager to learn, which is exactly how they should be. I would hate to have students who were eager to learn the subject matter. Wouldn't you say so, Professor Snape?" Her remark bit him painfully. She looked at him for only a second before taking a sip of her tea and staring into its depths.

"Well, then," McGonagall announced, "I suppose we're in a good place then. You are all dismissed. Halloween is approaching and I trust we will need to be as vigilant as ever in watching over our students with their penchant for mischief making. I expect to see everyone at the Quidditch match this weekend."

As they stood to leave, Minerva said, "Professor Snape, if you could stay for a moment."

"Certainly, Headmistress," he said. With everyone out of the room, Minerva looked at Snape and asked, "Any idea what Professor Granger was talking about?"

"I couldn't begin to know," he lied. "Ms Granger is as volatile and unpredictable as ever."

McGonagall sighed, realizing Snape was going to be of no immediate help to her. Albus' warning seemed time bound but she was willing to let it go for now, if only to give her time to think about the situation.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione could hear the cheers from the quidditch pitch as she wandered through the library. She had always found the routine to be comforting. When thinking about a problem or clearing her head, just moving up and down the aisles, hearing nothing but her shoes hitting the stone and the smell of the books in the air calmed her. Hermione's thoughts were focused on drowning out the sounds of the happy students as they cheered on their teams in the match. She thought of times she spent at the pitch, cheering her friends on. She thought of her first match, setting aflame the robes of Professor Snape. She narrowed her eyes and pushed the thought further away. Moving through the stacks, she thought of gillyweed and polyjuice potion. What she had done to get through those years, how she had tried to be liked and respected. Those were days behind her. She was aware that she didn't care what anyone thought or felt about her. She felt even less about herself.

With the festivities of Gryffindor's win echoing through the castle, Minerva McGonagall sought out the faculty member not in attendance. She found Hermione Granger where she anticipated, reading a tome in the library.

"Professor Granger," she started, "why were you not at the match?"

"Busy, I suppose," she said, without moving her eyes to the older witch.

"Gryffindor's win is being celebrated. I would think you be happy to see a win over Slytherin." She waited a moment for a reply from the young witch. Shifting position, "You would have loved to have seen Severus' face when-"

"I'm sorry, headmistress, I have things to attend to," Hermione said, closing the volume and standing to leave the library.

"I wish you would talk to me, Hermione," Minerva called out to her.

"About what, Professor?"

"Nothing, Professor Granger, I'll see you at dinner."

Snape was sitting in the potions classrooms, trying to bottle a calming potion when the headmistress arrived. She stormed in with force and slammed the door before dropping into a chair.

"I'm bottling a calming potion, Minerva, would you like a sample?" he asked sarcastically.

"I'm in no mood for your humor, we have a rather large problem here."

"Oh?" he asked, "what's that? Some Gryffindor problem? I can't be bothered to hear of the whining of-"

"Severus, enough," she countered. "Our problem is a Gryffindor problem, and it involves one Gryffindor currently teaching Defense against the Dark Arts."

He put the bottle down on the counter. Sighing, "what is it now, Minerva?"

"Something is troubling her. Albus claims that you know what it is. You claim you have no idea. I can't get her to speak to me and she grows colder and darker by the day." She waited for Snape to say something. When he offered no words, she continued, "Severus, you were guarded on your report of what happened to Hermione Granger when she was caught. You refused to tell us how she ended up in your rooms and what happened to her." Snape remained quiet, "Albus says there isn't much time left for her. You know what that means, don't you?" He turned his back to her and nodded. "Then, for the love of the gods, tell me!"

Snape rubbed his hands over his face and pointed Minerva into his rooms. "Get comfortable, Minerva. This is going to take some time to explain."

They sat in Snape's rooms. He crossed the room and poured two glasses of firewhiskey. He set one down before Minerva McGonagall and downed his own before refilling the glass.

He began, "Hermione Granger's problem is not a curse. She isn't hexed. She isn't under a spell. Her problem is one of her own mind."

"Go on," Minerva encouraged.

"Ms Granger was branded to me. Voldemort's plan was for her to be weakened enough for her to be forced to transfer her power to me then I transfer that to him. Things got complicated with the net and the plan was forgotten as he struggled to pull together an offensive when he realized the battle was coming. The…branding should have protected her. She should have been marked as my property and therefore off limits to anyone else. Not everyone heeded that declaration."

"What do you mean, branded?" she asked.

"Minerva, don't you read? Ms Granger wears my mark on the back of her neck. Any disobedience, any disloyalty and she would be punished severely, painfully through the brand. Before her branding, I linked with her mind. I told her to do as I said and that she would be protected. She had used her occlumency to keep her captors from probing her mind but built such a wall that she was unable to let me know that she was in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"I don't think it is my place to go into that. Suffice it to say, the elder Malfoy attempted to take her for his own. When I found her, she was staked to the floor of the cell and she was dying."

"That's when you healed her and brought her back to Hogwarts."

"Not exactly. When I found her, she told me that she had believed me but what she felt was that I had betrayed her trust and allowed her to suffer cruelly and brutally. There was so little left. She asked me to end all of it for her."

Minerva gasped, "she asked you to-"

"Yes, she asked me to kill her. And I had every intention of doing so. But, it ended. Even as I told her that it was over that she would be healed, she pleaded with me to end her pain."

"I don't understand. What does this have to do with what's happening to her now?"

"Don't be daft woman. Hermione had used her occlumency to protect the Order, to protect Potter, to protect Hogwarts, and to protect me. She protected everyone's secrets and the secret of the net. She did such an excellent job that it precluded anyone, ANYONE, from reaching into her mind. However, she didn't realize it. From her perspective, she was calling out to me, as I told her to do, I simply never arrived. When I got to her that day, the only thought she had was 'Professor Snape will come.' I received a rush of her memories, of what had been done to her. She blames me for what happened."

"Surely not," she wrinkled in disagreement. "She's a bright young woman. She knows you brought her here and took care of her until she went to Molly. She knows that you did what you had to do. Even if she did, I don't understand why this has changed her so."

Severus tossed back the firewhiskey and sighed. He tried again. "Hermione's power is derived from raw talent and intelligence that is channeled through one thing."

"Her bravery," McGonagall offered.

"No," he said, "her hope. Her magic works because her compassion and passion guide her. Her damn Gryffindor pride helps her penetrate through everything to look for the good. She was the only one able to understand me and she knew my role in the Order and accepted it. She thought, under it all, that I was good. That belief in the good was shattered when I broke my promise to her. I promised to protect her. From her perspective, I betrayed her. The wall she had built to keep others from probing her mind began to descend into a… vortex. It threatened to pull her inside it and the only thing that kept her from slipping was this hope that I would return to save her."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that when I failed to hear her, when I failed to save her, and when I failed to end it for her, she tumbled backwards into this darkness. The anger and horror and terror that she felt was concentrated on one single moment and one object. As her hope and her goodness faded, her magic and her mind latched onto a single thought. The rest of her tumbled into the vortex."

"And what was that thought?" Minerva asked.

"She hates me."


	9. Chapter 9

Minerva stared at him. "She hates you?"

"Yes. I could feel her rage. She was wounded, betrayed, and bitter. She hates me. The root of this Hermione Granger is within that moment, that's what…plugs the hole in the wall I suppose you could say."

"What do we do?" she asked.

"Hermione in many ways is a divided soul. Her intelligence is intact. Her abilities are intact. Her feelings are not. The mind has created compartments around the things that have hurt her and she has to get outside these compartments and this wall she's built. The thing that keeps her locked in will unlock her but she has to get through it and I feel it's impossible."

"So we just have to get her to not hate you?" she asked.

"I wish it were that easy. Hermione's final thought was that she hated me but the root of her hatred has…solidified that. The root is what she must overcome."

Minerva sat for a moment, "her root is the experiences in the dungeon."

"No, the root of her hatred for me is the betrayal. She lost her trust and her faith that night. I can't give that back to her."

"You're telling me, that Hermione Granger has to like you? You're telling me that the only thing that will save her is for you to restore her trust in you?" she stated.

"Deeper than that, she not only has to trust me, she has to believe that there is good in me worth having faith in. And that, I cannot help her with. She is destined to recede into the shadows."

"Of all the callous, selfish thoughts! After everything! I can't believe that you won't even try! She deserves-" Minerva caught herself. "Hermione isn't the only one that blames you for what happens is she?" She was met with silence. "Is she, Severus? You blame yourself. You also believe you have failed her."

He threw the glass into the fireplace. "Of course I blame myself! I failed her. I failed to protect her. I have done unforgivable things to her to save her only to have not kept up with my end of the bargain! She has every right to hate me. I have failed her and I have failed you."

Minerva was shocked, "What do you mean you've failed me?"

"For years, I did everything Albus Dumbledore asked me to do, things that keep me from sleeping at night. And I did them because I believed in him, I trusted him. I killed him on his own orders. You never asked me for explanations or reasoning. You never asked me to do anything for the Order. You asked me to do one thing, and I failed you."

She sat back for a moment trying to remember. "I asked you to protect her."

"Yes!" he hissed. "Yes, you asked me to protect her and I couldn't keep her safe for a couple of weeks. I should have gone to her earlier. When I set out to free the prisoners, I should have started with Hermione Granger. Now that dark shadow of the witch that was roams empty because I failed you both."

"I think if we just explain things," she offered.

"You sound like Albus. Hermione needs to get to the root of her block but I can't help her. She just doesn't remember."

"How do you know what she remembers?"

"We're still linked Minerva, she's still branded to me. She has me blocked out during the day but I see her dreams. I live her dreams and I can see her memories. She remembers waiting for me to save her, she remembers what Malfoy did, she remembers seeing me that day, and she remembers asking me to kill her. The last thought she had before she was engulfed in her own darkness was me walking away and the next thing she remembers is waking up to Molly Weasley. I am all but dead to her and beyond redemption. She is consumed by this"

"A pensieve?"

"No, she doesn't trust me. She doesn't trust her senses and she certainly wouldn't trust my memories. If you're going to save her, you're going to have to get her through this some other way."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"I'm not going to save her, Severus."

"I'm sorry? Didn't you just barge into my rooms demanding answers to save your Gryffindor?" he asked.

"I'm not going to save her, you are."

"And how, pray tell, do you suppose I'm going to do that?"

She smiled, "You and Professor Granger are going to save Ginny Weasley."


	10. Chapter 10

"Minerva McGonagall, you have lost your mind," he stated. "Ginny Weasley has had the best witches and wizards in Britain trying to undo what's been done to her and they have failed."

"True Severus, but she hasn't had THE best witch and wizard working with her."

"Your solution is for Professor Granger and me to waltz into St Mungo's, cure Ginny Weasley, and for it all to just work itself out. Shall I begin with the problems in this scenario now?"

"I understand your reservations, but hear me out. Hermione _obliviated_ her parents. When she performed this, it left her without a family. She and the young Ms Weasley had been very close and Molly took her in as family. Ginny and Hermione were as close as sisters, blood bound to each other. She loves no one or nothing more than that. If the two of you can work towards a solution to Ms Weasley's predicament, she may be able to see her love for Ginny through a prism, you. If she believed in you, if that belief was restored, would that be enough to get through to her?"

"Perhaps," he said. "This is risky. And this could take longer than Ms Granger has."

"How long do you think there is?" she asked gravely.

"I would say that if she doesn't push through this within six months, the wall will seal and she will be lost behind it forever."

Minerva stood up, "Well, Professor Snape, I guess you best get busy. Requests have to made of Professor Granger."

"Minerva, just a question. How do you suppose you are going to convince Hermione Granger to work with me on this?"

"Simple, Severus," she smirked, "I will trick her into it."

McGonagall retreated leaving Snape to think only one thought, _Bloody Gryffindors._

Snape felt guilty. He had been through hell for the Order but he had come through the other side, a better man for it and rid of the mark that had plagued him those many years. In being released from one hell, he found himself within another, one of his own making, of his own guilt. He hated the feeling, found it unpleasant, and despised the way it gnawed at him. As he sat to read a book before retiring, he knew Hermione had retired early that evening and that she had gone soundly to sleep. When she was awake and near him, there was a quiet that penetrated, a painful quiet that was unnaturally constructed to block him from seeing or knowing anything. As she fell asleep, there was a low hum, a pleasant calming hum to which he had become accustomed. Some nights the hum lulled him to sleep and his own mind was empty to dream his own dreams. But on most nights, the hum quickened and became louder and Severus was cast into her memories like being forced into a pensieve. He saw her mind recreate what happened and extrapolate on them, or he could see her memories. The vagueries of her happiest thoughts used to come to him as they tried to surface to protect her but slowly those were cast back and the memories she now brought to the surface were painful. Everything he had ever said to cause her pain as a student would be repeated. The nights he hated the most was when she dreamed of the night of the branding, of seeing his own face looking from her eyes, feeling her pain but listening to her rationalization. Cold, callous, and detached, he watched himself join with her to complete the ritual while she quickly went through strategies to save his life. If he was honest, he hated her for it.

Snape listened to the hum as he sat in his chair and waited for the quickening but it wasn't coming. He guessed she had taken a dreamless sleep potion this evening. He hurried to bed to settle himself in. Good nights of sleep were hard for him to come by as well.

Hermione sat in her chambers the next morning, trying to make a list of things to do. As she swirled her tea absently, the floo started to gradually grow brighter. Before the face even appeared, she greeted it with a partial smile, 'Hello, Molly. How are you?' Molly Weasley stepped through the floo and pulled Hermione into her arms. Hermione softened and let herself be pulled into the embrace before wordlessly offering the older witch a chair beside her. Molly took her seat as Hermione began preparing a cup of tea for her.

"How are you dear?" Molly asked.

"The year is going well. The students are doing well and settling in. I think it's good that they've finally had some normalcy after so much uncertainty," Hermione answered.

"Yes, so good to hear. I'm sure they are grateful to have that pressure lifted from them. But," she started carefully, "how are you faring…with your new work and such?"

Hermione knew what she was asking, "I'm fine. I enjoy the work," was all she could answer.

They sat in a comfortable silence, one they had done hundreds of times before in those weeks after the war ended.

"Hermione, I've come here to ask for your help, for a favor of such magnitude, I can't even express," Molly began.

"Anything," Hermione answered easily as she snapped her head up.

"Now, you haven't heard exactly what I'm going to ask you for."

"It doesn't matter," she replied, "you tell me what you need and if I am able, I will give myself to it fully."

"That is very gracious of you, I… don't know how to ask you, but, I wondered if you could, you would go to Ginny."

Hermione was quiet and still while the request hung in the air.

"I know it's very difficult for you, but I refuse to believe there is no hope for her. Minerva is contacting someone to work with you. She believes your combined talents may be the key to unlocking Ginny" Hermione sat with her eyes trained on the table, her breathing coming in quicker, shorter takes. "Oh my, I've asked too much," Molly played.

"No," Hermione spoke, "No, it's not that, it's just…"

Molly placed her hand on the young witch's arm. "Tell me, dear. You know you can tell me anything."

Hermione looked at her, "What if I fail?"

"Hermione, look at me," she requested as Hermione pulled her eyes up to look into the woman's face, "I don't expect anything but I would be grateful if you would try."

Hermione nodded, "I will try. I promise you. No matter what, I will try."

"Thank you, my dear, you have no idea what this means to me."

The witches finished their tea in silence before Molly departed from Hermione's chamber.

"Well?" Minerva asked, "how did it go?"

"She said she would try," Molly said.

"What exactly did you tell her about Severus?"

"I didn't exactly tell her who would be helping, I merely told her that you were looking for someone to help her. She promised she would try, no matter what."

Minerva smiled, "That is exactly what we need. I will make arrangements with Severus to meet us at St Mungo's shortly after Hermione has had time with Ginny."

The ladies felt very pleased with themselves and made plans for the following day.


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione pulled the cloak over her head and walked out the doors to meet Molly Weasley. She was nervous. Since the end of the war, she had been only three places: the Burrow, Hogwarts, and a brief trip to the Ministry to testify on behalf of Severus Snape. Reporters followed her every move and the only place she was able to hide was within the walls of the school. She thought about what it meant to go to St Mungo's. The protection of the castle had been her refuge, and although Molly had promised that no one but a select few would know of her upcoming visit, she knew that these things got around. When someone discovered that the Hermione Granger would be making a visit, it could get very tricky.

Molly watched the small figure approaching her and began to have second thoughts about this deception. She felt torn, knowing that this could very well be her daughter's only chance of recovery, knowing that Hermione needed a recovery of her known, and also knowing that she had been part of a scheme that might lose Hermione's trust in her. It was a lot for one witch to try and handle. She had kept her promise though. Only a handful of healers at St Mungo's knew Hermione would be paying a visit; she hadn't even told Arthur or the boys. Molly reached out to take Hermione's shaking hand and they apparated to St Mungo's.

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Arriving to St Mungo's, Hermione's hand tensed. Sensing her discomfort, Molly placed her other hand reassuringly atop the other and nodded softly. They walked into the hospital undetected and made their way to Ginny's floor where they met with McGonagall.

When they arrived outside Ginny's room, Hermione could hear the healers arguing.

"I don't know why they think that crazy witch is going to be able to do something we can't," he hissed.

"Got me, Pye, but McGonagall asked for the favor, so what were to say," the other replied.

Molly and Minerva were concerned about how Hermione would react but she made no movement. She remained steady and calm as she walked into the room. Hermione dropped her hood and walked into the room. With a swirl, her cloak was removed and levitated to a hook on the wall. The color had drained from the two healers faces as they saw her staring at them through cold eyes.

"Ah, Professor Granger, it's such a honor to have you-" Pye started. Hermione held up one hand to indicate she had no interest in hearing what he had to say.

"Where is her chart?" she asked. Pye's assistant, Menchum passed the chart over to her and Hermione made quick work of reading through pages of notes left by a variety of healers. She placed the chart absently on the tray beside Ginny's chair. From behind, Hermione could see a slight twitch, Ginny's head jerked just slightly to the right in a timed motion. Moving in front of her, Ginny's eyes searched and darted to the left in time with the twitching. Hermione lifted her trembling hands and felt the aura around her. With her palms out, she pushed the air surrounding Ginny feeling thousands of inconsistent vibrations in her aura. She moved closer into Ginny's space and closed her eyes. Those in the room was certain she was raving mad yet as she continued to feel her way toward Ginny, the twitching slowed and her eyes slowed trained on Hermione. Once penetrating the space around her, Hermione reached in and put one had on each of Ginny's arms. Slowly and softly sliding them up toward her shoulders, she brought her hands to each side of Ginny's neck and looked directly into her eyes. Cupping her face between her palms, Hermione pressed her forehead against Ginny's. Their breathing came and went together and for minutes there was no movement.

Hermione closed her eyes before placing her lips on Ginny's. Pye furrowed his brow and moved to cross the room but Minerva held her arm out, refusing to let him pass. Her look indicated that she had the utmost trust in Hermione. For several moments, the awkward site of the raven haired witch standing with her lips pressed to the younger woman seemed ridiculous but a pulse of clean magic was sent through the air and all of them felt calm.

She pulled away from her young friend and as she moved further from Ginny, they could see the twitch begin again slowly until it had reached the pace to which they had become accustomed. Hermione picked up the chart and made some notes. The healers stood expectantly, waiting to hear what she would say.

Hermione asked, "What are you doing for the curse?"

Pye puffed up proudly, "we know she was hit with a curse that was a hybrid Cruciatus and Confundus. We're trying to figure out how those two were fused in this spell. We have research working on it in the labs."

Hermione seemed annoyed, "Yes, I can read what's in the chart. I meant what you're doing for the other curse."

Pye looked at her confused, "what other curse?"

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The five of them walked into Pye's office and sat down. Menchum looked at Pye, and they exchanged a look that said, _this woman has lost her mind. _"Professor Granger, the best healers have examined her and concur that she was hit with this hybrid curse and-"

"Yes," Hermione interrupted, "I never said she wasn't. I asked about the other one."

Blank looks greeted Hermione and she knew they had no idea what she was talking about. She stood up and paced, irritated in the office.

"Gentlemen, what do you know about the net?" she started.

Menchum answered, "What was in the Prophet, gathers curses, when its dropped they are shot back to the casters."

"Correct," she said, "now, how do you suppose that works?"

Both men looked at each other sheepishly. They had no idea.

Hermione began to explain, "The net binds through a balance of magic. It holds together and gathers curses as they're cast. The harmonics of the net must be maintained through that balance. Thinking the net 'drops' is too simple. A surge must be created to shift its balance and cause it to drop. All the magic that is contained has to go somewhere so it returns to its caster."

Waiting for someone to continue the thought, she was met with silence. She sighed, "picture a tea strainer. If you put the leaves for black tea in the tea strainer, and strain water through it, you have brewed tea, yes?" They nodded. "What happens to the leaves?" she asked them. "They're caught in the strainer," Menchum offered. "Correct. Now, you remove the strainer and knock it against the sink to clean it out. Some of the tea leaves remain, and what doesn't is an essence of the tea you used. If you brew a second cup of tea, say jasmine tea, without thoroughly washing the strainer, you sometimes get tea that tastes a bit…off."

"What are you trying to tell us?" Pye asked.

"The net when dropped is like a tea strainer that hasn't been properly rinsed, it still has some of the essence in it. It takes several moments after the net is dropped for the residue to dissipate appropriately, this is the rinse. In that case, there was enough good energy in the room to work against the residual. When whoever cast that hybrid curse sent it toward Ginny, it bounced against the residue before it had receded. Yes, Ginny was hit with this hybrid curse but it also bounced against some other combination of curses that had been cast into the net. Ginny was hit by two curses simultaneously."

They stared at her, gaping. "What does that mean?" Molly asked.

"It means, that they've simplified Ginny's problem and that's why they can't recreate the hex." She turned and addressed the healers, "You need to go bigger, figured out what curse or curses were left in the net and bounced back to Ginny. Once you can figure that out, you can try to recreate the curse and undo it piece at a time," she explained.

Minerva stepped in, "Hermione, is this something that you can do?"

"Maybe," she answered, "This is going to require someone even more familiar with dark magic than myself. We also need someone to help work through the arithmancy of it to determine what likely combinations we could start with. I imagine a mere countercurse will not be enough. We'll need to undo the curse without tearing her mind to shreds, and we'll need someone with potions expertise for that."

No sooner had the words left her lips than she whirled toward the door. She angrily called out, "What's HE doing here?"


	12. Chapter 12

Severus Snape had entered St Mungo's right on time. Before he even had a chance to go upstairs, he felt himself being pushed away with some strange force. He pushed through the force and made his way up the stairs.

Hermione knew Snape had entered the hospital before anyone else was aware he was there. He didn't need to be in the doorway or down the hall for her to know. She had an uncanny ability to know who was approaching.

"What is HE doing here?" she called out angrily.

Minerva stepped towards her, "Hermione, hear me out."

"NO!" she said, "I know why he's here and I will not, I cannot, I-"

Molly stepped towards her and picked up her hands, looking into her eyes she said, "Please, Hermione. I need your help."

Hermione's expression softened only slightly before staring at McGonagall, "I will do this for Molly and for Ginny but tell him to keep his distance."

Snape stood in the doorway, and she knew he had heard her declaration but he said nothing. When he tried to move closer, her push against him was stronger. He was irritated just enough as he pushed against it to see her hiss in pain, drawing her hand up to her neck. Never, in all of his days, had he seen someone look at him with such unadulterated hatred as she did at that moment. He backed off slowly and her hands returned to her sides, twitching just slightly as they tended to do.

The healers in the room seemed perplexed by the exchange and became slightly terrified of the pair of severe figures in the room. Both of them had been in Snape's potions classes at Hogwarts and both of them were afraid of him but nothing matched the abject terror that Hermione Granger placed within them at that moment.

"Healers Pye and Menchum," Minerva said calmly, "do you think you could give us a minute for discussion?" They nodded and hurried out of the room, glad to be away from the terrifying pair.

Everyone waited for someone else to speak. "Professor Granger, the best person I could figure to help with this is Professor Snape," she held up her hand to keep from interruptions. "Regardless of any other disagreements between the two of you, Professor Snape is the best choice." Hermione seemed unenthusiastic and skeptical of the choice.

"Did you not say you needed someone with advanced knowledge of the Dark Arts?" she asked.

"Yes" Hermione responded.

"And you need someone with great arithmancy skills?"

Hermione knew where this was going and nodded.

"Did you also not say you would require a potions master for this?"

Hermione only grunted.

"Professor Granger, if you can name someone else who fits your description of an assistant better than Professor Snape, I am certainly willing to send him back to Hogwarts." Minerva hoped against hope she couldn't come up with anyone else. Hermione thought for a few moments before sighing, "No Professor McGonagall, I suppose not."

"Excellent," she smiled, "I trust you will begin immediately."

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Molly escorted a disgruntled Hermione back to Hogwarts. Lost in her own thoughts, Hermione hadn't noticed that the older witch had begun to cry softly. Hermione stopped and tilted her head towards Molly, unsure of what to do. She touched her cheek to wipe away a tear and Hermione looked at her wet fingers, rubbing the tears between her fingertips, perplexed somehow. She couldn't remember how to cry.

Molly waved her hand in front of her face, "Now dear, don't worry about me."

"What is it? I'm sorry for overreacting," she said.

"Oh no, that isn't it at all," Molly said, "It's just that I had almost given up that Ginny would ever get better. This has given me some hope, something to believe in."

The words echoed in Hermione's head, _This has given me some hope, something to believe in. _If Molly could believe in this, then so could she. She made a promise to her, "Molly, I promise you that I will do everything within my power to help Ginny. I owe you that much."

Molly took Hermione's face into her hands and looked into her face. Her face held lines of anguish that was imperceptible to most people. The scar that ran down her face made her look severe but her eyes seemed at once both cold and scared. You had to look hard enough to see the girl behind those grey eyes. "Hermione, you owe me nothing. You don't owe anyone anything. Remember that. But also know that I am grateful for your effort. If anyone can help Ginny, you can."

Hermione nodded and they continued their walk inside. After a silent cup of tea, Molly returned home, leaving Hermione with her own thoughts.

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Hermione had worked all afternoon, getting her thoughts and research down onto paper. She sat in her chambers and penned a quick note to Snape.

_Tomorrow at 8am, my classroom. Bring a quill._

She neither addressed nor signed it. She knew that he would know. She picked up a bottle of dreamless sleep potion and drank it back before settling into her bed; she knew she needed a good night's sleep to get through the next day.

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At 7:58am, Hermione Granger was agitated. She paced her classroom, moving desks with a flick of her hand, arranging shelves the same way. She had been there since 6:30 that morning and was anxious to get things started. At 7:59am, she looked at the clock and hissed knowing he was striding down the hallway. Her brow was furrowed into a scowl when he walked in just before the clock ticked to 8:00.

She didn't acknowledge him as he entered. He moved to the opposite side of the room where he could see she planned for him to work. Using only her hands, she levitated a stack of scrolls toward the desk nearest him. "Those are my thoughts," she said. He nodded at her and began picking them up and reading through them.

Snape knew she was brilliant but reading the scrolls before him he had no doubt. She had worked out algorithms for hundreds of dark curses and made projections on which she thought might most likely combine. Hermione had worked out how much residual energy each of those hundreds of curse could have. She had calculated, with scary precision, which curses had the vibration and frequency needed to dissipate and in what order.

"Granger," he started before she stared at him darkly, then turning her back to him once again, "Professor Granger, did you consider the power of the witches and wizards in that room?" With a move of her hand, another scroll had levitated towards him, "ah, of course you did. Did you also consider the netted energy in that room with the casters?" Another scroll flew towards him, at a much greater velocity than the last. Irritated at her impatience, he picked it up and read through it. He continued reading the scrolls before him.

After a few hours, he pushed the scrolls into the middle of the table and looked up to see her working calculations on the board. Her hands were raised slightly, enough for him to see her trembling. It took him a few moments to realize she was controlling the chalk writings on the board solely with her hands.

"Thoughts Professor Snape?" she asked, aware he had finished reading.

"I think you're moving in the right direction. You are aware, however, that there are literally thousands of-" he was cut off.

"Of course, I thought we would start with these twelve" she said, stepping away from the board, letting him see her work.


	13. Chapter 13

He studied the board from across the room but was unable to see it clearly. He got up to move across the room and worked through the push against him. This time, he stopped and waited. She moved to the front of the room, and he felt the pressure against his chest lessen, allowing him to walk over to see the work.

"I am going to the Great Hall for lunch," she said gathering her books, "unless you have other plans, should we plan to resume at 2?"

Engrossed in the board, he grunted his acceptance and listened to her footsteps hit the stone as she left toward the Great Hall.

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Snape picked up the quill beside him and made some notes on the parchment. He understood why Voldemort wanted Hermione's magic; she was so intelligent that it scared even him. Jotting down his thoughts on her work, he left the classroom and made his way to the kitchens to get some lunch for himself. As he strode down the hall deep in thought, he saw the all too familiar shape of the headmistress walking towards him. Too late to dodge into a classroom, he walked up to her and nodded his hello.

"I just saw Professor Granger in the Great Hall," she said smiling. "She said she had a couple of ideas but hadn't gotten very far yet."

"Merlins," he drew back, "she doesn't have just a couple of ideas, there is work in there that half of the faculty at the best magical institutions in the world wouldn't understand. I can barely get through some of it myself."

"Oh that is very good news indeed!" Minerva clapped with excitement.

"Don't get too excited yet, Minerva," he said, "we're still a long way away from a solution."

"Right, of course," she said, "Well, I'll let you be on your way. I'll see you this evening at dinner."

He rolled his eyes and continued on towards the kitchens.

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When he walked back into the classroom shortly before 2:00, he saw her back to the board working on something. He knew she was aware that he was there, and he felt that small push against his presence to let him know how far he could enter. As she reached down to pick up the quill to make a note, she dropped the quill and drew her hand back as if it had been burnt. She sent the quill flying towards him and it embedded itself into his thigh. He grimaced for a moment at the pain of having something driven into his thigh muscle. Pulling it out, he asked, "was that quite necessary?"

She glared at him, "Don't touch my things." Then she went back to work as he pulled the quill out of his leg and walked back over to the table where she had laid out a parchment that had two questions on it:

_Purpose_

_Impact_

He looked up and she began to speak, "We know what kinds of curses there are, and we have twelve primary combinations to work with. Given this, we need to know the purpose of each of the curses and their combinations and what mutations those curses could take given the energy in the room and the residual frequency left by the dropped net. We also need to project the impact this would have and how it might affect someone hit by this curse. Your thoughts would be appreciated." He sat down and began making notes.

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Hermione and Severus worked most evenings on the project, having had to relocate most of the work to an abandoned classroom on the third floor so she could continue holding lessons in her main classroom. An unspoken agreement between the two of them meant that Saturdays and Sundays would mean a full day's work, breaking separately for meals. Very little was said between them. An occasional clarification from one to another was all. Snape had figured out the best distance to keep from her. He also remembered to bring his own quill and parchments.

Two weeks after their work began, Snape was sitting in his room, marking papers and drinking red wine. A presence shifted outside and he called to it, "In with you, Minerva, what do you want?"

She came around the corner and into his rooms. "Between you and Hermione, you're making me uneasy with this predilection of knowing who's at your doors."

"Mmm," was all he murmured at her. She continued, "How are things coming along?"

"Steady I believe, we have a theory that needs to be tested and Hermione thinks that we need to look at impact points. She wishes to schedule another visit to see Ms Weasley before going further."

"That's interesting," she said. "And?"

"And, what?" he asked, "Other than being stabbed in the leg with a quill and headaches from the volumes of reading, no more is to be expected."

Minerva looked disappointed, "So no changes with her?"

"Ah," he said, "no."

She slunk back in her chair, "I was sure we would see something at this point. Nothing at all?"

"Minerva, she barely speaks to me. I can't be on the same side of the room with her."

"Do you think there's still time?"

"I don't know. I seriously doubt it," he said resigning.

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Molly greeted Hermione, Minerva, and Severus at the gates of Hogwarts. Hermione moved into her arms and smiled a small almost imperceptible smile at her. She held onto her hand as they apparated to St Mungo's.

Pye and Menchum had not been discreet about the guests arriving. Instead of sliding into the hospital unnoticed like the last time, Hermione was met with flashes of cameras and reporters all around her. She could hear the questions around her, one overlapping the other, many about the battle, some about Voldemort, some about how she got the scar on her face, and other personal questions about her love life. Hermione began to panic and Severus, for the first time, could feel her starting to lose control. He could feel her stomach feel like it was dropping out from underneath her, her dizziness, and he knew she was looking to escape. Molly had her pulled tightly into her cloak and tried to steer her into the hospital. Snape looked at the mass of people before them. Without knowing what else to do, he bellowed, "ENOUGH!" The voices dwindled to a murmur. "Let them pass."

"We've got a right to know, mate," one said, "St Mungo's is funded through taxes from the Ministry and we've a right to know-" He closed in on the reporter and looked him in the eyes, staring down at him. The man cowered back and Snape pushed his way through the crowd with Molly and Hermione close behind him.

Hermione got into the hospital and sat down on a bench, trying to pull herself together. She looked scarily pale. Her eyes were drooping slowly and she whispered something to Molly. All Snape could hear was Molly's reply, "I don't know dear, but we'll find out who told them." Snape had a very good idea of who it was and he intended to take care of it immediately.

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Pye and Menchum sat with their coffee at a table laughing when Snape slung the door open to the office. They startled and wanted to make a comment about knocking when they saw the look in his eyes.

"I would like to know, under what circumstances you felt it appropriate to alert the press about Professor Granger's arrival here," he stated.

Pye stood up and fidgeted, "Um, wasn't us sir. No, wasn't us."

"Oh please, Pye, you're just as transparent as ever. And as a Hufflepuff, you are a terrible liar. Seems you and your assistant here received a hefty purse of galleons for the information."

Pye and Menchum looked at each other frightened. "I expect that money will be given to Hogwarts as a charitable contribution," Snape said.

"Of course, sir," Pye said, "intended to all along," he lied.

"Mmm," Snape hummed, "And gentlemen, let me assure you, should you let your desire for wealth cloud your judgment in future or should you feel it necessary to loosen your lips on private matters, you will have to deal with directly." He closed the door behind him and made his way down the hall to Ginny Weasley's room to meet with his companions.


	14. Chapter 14

Severus walked into the room to see Hermione leaned over Ginny with her forehead pressed against the young redhead. She looked up at Snape for a moment and he felt a push into his subconscious. Hermione had provided a conduit of herself to let Snape see inside Ginny's mind. When she pressed her lips to her friend's, he felt uncomfortable at the intimacy but was washed over instantly by the connection forged. He lost his breath and fell hard against the wall. With his brow furrowed, he watched Hermione lead him through Ginny's mind. He saw her memories of the battle and Hermione froze the moment for him allowing him to look around a bit. She held his focus on a wanded hand that came from around a pole and cast towards the young girl. He saw the curse bounce against the remnants of the net. She held that moment and Severus understood that he needed to see the next image. It wasn't a memory, it was the inside of Ginny's mind.

At first, he tried to feel around through the darkness and he could feel Hermione's impatience. He relaxed and waited until he could discern the shades of black and deep grey. Then he saw it as she pulled them both out.

Exhausted and with an aching head, he looked at Hermione who had broken the connection.

"A fissure," he said and she nodded before moving a strand of Ginny's hair behind her ear.

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That evening, Snape expected to have their work classroom to himself. He had spent the better part of the afternoon making notes and digging through his books but ran into wall after wall. Hermione had been doing the same.

When he entered the room this time, he expected it to be like all the times before, but she turned around to see him enter and nodded at him, "Professor." It was the first pleasantry she had shown him since they had started the work. He nodded back at her and returned an expressionless, "Professor." He moved to his side of the room to sit down when she began.

"I'm stuck," she announced. "I've worked on this all afternoon and I can't seem to get anywhere."

"I have had the same problem," he said, "you have a theory on the fissure?"

"Yes," she answered, "I believe that once we figure out what caused it, we can work to correct it, which we're already doing. But I also know that if we pull her out of balance without sealing that fissure, healing her will destroy her."

He nodded, "Mm, I came to the same conclusion. Here are my notes." He levitated the scrolls to her with a flick of the wand. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Well," she concentrated, "I do know this, we're going to need a potion, a spell, and a whole lot of luck."

He looked at the chalkmarks on the board, "I will begin the potion."

"I thought you might," she said, "I set up a small potions station at the back of the room." He wordlessly took his leave and headed to start calculations.

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Hours later, a tired Hermione was rubbing her head as she tried working out the last of the calculations for the second time. She sat down to hear her name called, "Professor Granger, can you assist for a moment please?"

She got up and walked towards the back of the classroom. The steam was rising above the cauldron and Snape was using one hand to stir in even calculated turns and another to hold a copper rod in a precise angle in the cauldron. "Professor?" she asked. "Yes, I need you to finely chop that bezoar into eighths and grind into the mortar there with the wormwood." He could see her calculating how she would do this without being at his table. "I would move if I could Professor Granger, but I've been working on this potion for three hours and would prefer not to have to start over. The bezoar and wormwood need to be freshly combined for this to have any possible effect." She moved towards him and tried to pick up the knife but it wouldn't stay still in her hands. As she tried to bring the blade evenly onto the bezoar, the trembling made it impossible to make exacting cuts. She put the knife down and stepped away for a moment.

Snape was admittedly frustrated. He had been working on the potion for hours and had he known she would be so monumentally unhelpful, he would have asked someone to come assist him. She moved back to the table but instead of picking up the knife, she turned her hand with the side of her palm hovering over the bezoar. Slowly moving her hand over it, he saw it being evenly sliced into eighths just as he had instructed. She tried only once to hold the pestle in her hands but when it touched the mortar and it clinked, she set it down and cupped her hand above the pestle and let it do its work. Once finished, she slowly added the mixture into the cauldron. With four more stirs, Snape removed the copper rod and looked at her, "Professor Granger, how in blazes did you do that?"

"Do what?" she asked.

"Granger, you just used wandless magic for a task of utmost precision," he reported, "how did you do that?"

"I don't know, I just do," she answered.

"That is an amazing feat, only a small few can accomplish what you did," he said

She shrugged at him. "How did you learn to do that?" he asked.

"I just did. I can't hold a cutting knife or a fork. I can barely hold my own toothbrush. It takes everything I can do to hold onto a quill and then I have to cast a spell over my own handwriting so it's legible." She held her hands up to him and looked at the thick white scars on the tops of her hands and their noticeable tremble, "These," she said thrusting them closer to him, "Are about bloody useless. A few weeks of the Cruciatus will do it anyone." She paused, "But you know that, don't you?" she asked icily before returning to the board.

He didn't say a word to the retreating form. Snape left the classroom to let his potion simmer for its allotted time. In his own rooms, he sank down with his head in his hands. Running his fingers through his hair, he let a wave of guilt rush through him. He thought about finding her staked to the dungeon and her pleas to end it for her. Then his mind moved faster. He saw himself over her again and felt her body tense when he roughly joined with her. The back of his neck burned for a moment. Then there were quick flashes, Malfoy, a voice bellowing _Crucio, _her terrified screams, and his palms tensed and ached when the stakes drove into them. He started to sweat profusely as he listened to her screams, screams that subsided into tears and the one continuing thought, _Professor Snape will come, Professor Snape will come. _

He woke up in his chair with a start. It was a dream, but it wasn't his. He knew she was dreaming again. She too had awoken for a few minutes, and as she settled back to sleep, the hum lulled him to sleep. He hated himself too. Hermione Granger was destroyed and it was his fault.


	15. Chapter 15

Snape woke up with the unpleasantries of a hangover without the benefit of having overindulged the evening before. He tumbled out of his bed and tried to focus in on the clock beside his bed. Bringing it in and out of focus, he struggled to make out the numbers but when he saw that it was 9:15, he jumped up and muttered a quick cleansing spell before rushing out to the classroom.

Hermione hadn't noticed Snape's tardiness, she was too wrapped up in her work. When she felt him coming towards the classroom quickly, she was alarmed at his rapid approach and when he threw himself around the corner and into the classroom, she lost her composure.

He looked up just in time to see her eyes widen with fear, backing to the wall, and slumping down along it with her eyes pulled tightly together. Snape moved towards her instinctively and when her eyes popped upon, he was advancing quickly, too quickly. She held out her hands in a motion that indicated he should stop, but the magic coursing through her could not be contained and she sent him flying across the room and into a bookshelf.

Instinct had taken her over. She was drowning in memories that were surfacing around her, making it hard to breathe or think. Her shaking hand was held out in front of her and Severus could feel the pressure of someone pressing on his chest. She was pressing so hard that he was struggling to breathe. Severus squirmed in a pile against the wall and tried to motion for her to stop. Hermione, found herself in a memory, and she was using this force to hold back a brutal Lucius Malfoy. As Severus started to choke against the pressure, a voice broke Hermione's concentration.

"HERMIONE GRANGER!" Molly Weasley shouted, surprising Hermione. "Stop that this instance! What in the devil are you doing?" she asked.

Hermione dropped her hand to see the red-haired witch in the doorway holding a tin of biscuits. She looked to the floor where a gasping Snape was slowing his breathing. "I…I don't know," Hermione answered honestly. "I was…he was…it wasn't this…" was all she could get out. She dropped her hands to her sides and her whole body began to shake.

Snape stood up and brushed himself off, propping himself with one hand against the wall. If he didn't have a headache already, he definitely had one now. Molly crossed the room and took Hermione by the shoulders. "Are you alright?" she asked. Hermione nodded to her. "Good then," she smiled, "Severus, how are you dear?"

"Other than being aggravated by being called dear, I'm doing finet," he said. "It was a misunderstanding. Nothing to fret over. Professor Granger was caught off guard and acted instinctively, she isn't to blame."

Hermione looked up perplexed. She just blasted him across a room, slammed him into a wall, and almost suffocated him. The look on his face said he was still wincing from pain and that he would be sore for a few days. She was confused. There were many things that she thought he should be – angry was a good start – but she didn't expect apologetic. She was confused by her own feelings; she had expected to feel…happy somehow about causing him such pain but she wasn't, she felt…remorse. Hermione's pride kept her from apologizing to him so all she could offer was, "should we take a break until after lunch?"

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Snape felt like Hagrid had sat on him. His chest hurt, his ribs hurts, and his back hurt. Madam Pomfrey hadn't asked too many questions of her colleague, just patched him up and sent him on his way to the headmistress' office. He made his way to McGonagall's office and sat into a chair.

"Molly paid me a visit," she said, waiting for him to fill in the blanks.

"Mm, I'm sure she did," he replied.

"Care to tell me what happened," McGonagall pressed.

"Well, Minerva, if you must know, Hermione Granger threw me against a wall and almost pressed the life out of me."

"Oh dear," she said, "was Molly able to disarm her?"

Snape snorted, "well, the trouble is, there was nothing to disarm. It seems Ms Granger no longer needs her wand to help her do magic. She's been using wandless magic ever since she returned to Hogwarts. I've watched her write on the boards, levitate scrolls, and finely chop bezoars with only her hands. There is more power in Hermione Granger than anyone thought."

Minerva wasn't sure whether to be proud or worried. For now, she figured a bit of both would be helpful. Snape rubbed his temples before speaking, "There was a moment, however, after Molly came in, that she looked almost…sorry for what she did. It was brief and it was covered up quickly."

"I suppose that's something, I guess," she offered.

"Perhaps," he said, _perhaps._

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Hermione sat in her teaching classroom, just thinking. She didn't like feeling this way. It was very simple, Snape was evil and not to be trusted. Yet, he had not told Molly what had transpired or how she very nearly killed him. He wasn't angry; in fact, he almost seemed to feel guilty for having startled her. She didn't know what it meant. She could feel something, some warmth that she couldn't pinpoint and as she tried to grab onto to it, it drew away from her. She knew that warmth and a part of her felt lighter, warmer to have it near her again. When it withdrew she was cross, but more than that, it made her want that feeling again, whatever it was.

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After lunch, Hermione returned to their working classroom and checked Snape's potion. It was a gold color with flecks of pink, very beautiful in fact. She wondered what a dress that color would look like. Her eyes popped open and she shook her head at what an odd thought that was. Returning to her workbench, she waited for Severus to return.

Snape slowed down as he approached the classroom, giving her time to register his arrival and perhaps avoid being tossed against the wall again. He felt her push and registered that she knew he was approaching. There was something, different this time, the push against him was just as firm but it wasn't as…cold. She was keeping him at a distance certainly but there was something else there, a curiosity. Hermione Granger was trying to figure him out.

"The potion looks ready," she said to him before he walked through the door.

"Yes, should be, I think all we need to do now is collect the barbed fig and the potion will be ready when we figure out how to undo the curse," he replied.

She studied him for a minute, head cocked slightly to one side. He didn't make a move, looking at her, letting her mind work on whatever problem it was dealing with. She pulled out of her thoughts and looked him in the eyes for a moment. For the first time since he saw her at the welcome dinner, she didn't look at him with pure hatred. That had to be something.

"Where are you with working out the curse?" he asked her.

"I think, based on what we have, and the calculations we've done that we have one of two problems. First, we could have a hybrid Cruciatus/Confundus that has splintered against a mind wiping spell of some sort. Second, our hybrid could have splintered against the killing curse but in its weakened state it would have had to latch to something else to stay active. None of the other calculations we've done make sense or hold together. With the energy in that room and the frequencies at which those curses resonate, there isn't much else to go on."

"What do you think?" he asked her.

"Unfortunately, I think it's the latter. Ginny's mind is very much intact and all the details leading up to the curse are vivid, there's no deterioration of memory," she said.

"I agree. I think it is most probably that the killing curse has bound with something else. Do you have any speculations on what?"

"No," she sighed, "that's the problem. If you throw out all the curses that simply won't bind with the killing curse, there are still dozens of possibilities."

He murmured in agreement. They both sat staring at the board and a thought came to him.

"Theoretically," he began, "the ability of this Cruciatus/Confundus to bind with a hybrid Killing curse and something would be dependent on only a small number of factors."

"True," she agreed, "once you take into the harmonics in that room, you're down to only a small number of variables."

He pushed a little, "which would be?"

Hermione sat up a little. She raised her hands and the chalk in the tray by the board began to cross off and add notations. Her mind was moving quickly and Snape was keeping pace as she began making notes down the side of the board. She stepped back and the chalk floated down to the tray.

She looked at him and she said, "you know what this means."

He ran through what she did on the board again, "it means that there is only one variable in this equation. We can take our thousands down to about four if we can solve for that variable."

"Exactly!" she said excitedly. Then she frowned at her own work, "you know what else that means…"

"Yes," he said, "we have to figure out who threw the curse."


	16. Chapter 16

Their momentary excitement from their progress waned quickly. Sitting in silence, they both were trying to work out how they were going to go about their next steps.

"Well," he said, "we can sit in here and stare at this board or we can get a drink and clear our heads for a bit."

She wasn't sure what to say to him. A part of her wanted to celebrate this small victory and leave the rest until tomorrow but another part of her felt she should push on. A whole other part of her wasn't sure she should do either with Severus Snape. As she thought through this, Snape waited patiently for her response.

"I suppose I could do with refreshment," she said.

"Should we go to Hogsmeade?" he asked, "I haven't been out of this blasted castle since we went to St Mungo's.

"Leave the castle?" she asked warily. "I can't leave the castle."

"Why ever not?" he questioned, realizing he was pushing her.

"People…stare at me," she said. "They won't leave me alone. You read the Daily Prophet, you know what they say about me."

"The Prophet is rubbish Granger, and you know it," he told her.

"Yes, rubbish it is. I just hate the way they stare so. I suppose I understand. It is horrific to witness," she shrugged.

"Professor Granger, they don't stare because of how you look. They stare because you are the most widely celebrated witch in history. Other than Harry Potter, no one is more known or respected."

"Then why do they seem so afraid, Professor Snape?" she asked in a voice that resembled her younger self.

"Granger, people are afraid of power and your intelligence and ability demonstrate your immense power. They are afraid of how frightfully brilliant you are. I have to admit, though, you also have a good stare."

She smiled slightly at his attempt at humor.

"We can glamour you," he offered.

"Professor Snape," she said to him in slight irritation, "if I could be glamoured, don't you think I would have done so already?"

He felt embarrassed. Knowing all he knew about dark magic, he failed to take into account that no glamour could write over the effects of the dark magic. He sighed, "You can't hide in here forever. I know that better than anyone. Someday you're going to have to go outside these walls again and you might as well go sooner than later."

She knew he was right. "Alright," she agreed.

"Alright?" he asked, taken aback that she had agreed so quickly. He had dozens of other reasons for her to get out of the castle. The rational Hermione Granger had responded to his logic.

"Alright," she repeated, "I will go to Hogsmeade. Should we meet at Three Broomsticks in an hour?"

"Would you like to travel together?" he pushed.

"No!" she said loudly, then backed off, "no, I can find my way there myself. I will see you in an hour."

With that, she left the classroom and headed to her rooms to freshen up before donning her hooded cloak and beginning the journey to Hogsmeade.

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The bustle of Hogsmeade was refreshing. She could smell sweets and hear laughter around her. While she was initially worried about being harassed, most paid her no notice and she made her way to the Three Broomsticks feeling better than she had in months.

When she entered, she knew he was there and quickly scanning the room saw him sitting in a corner booth, hands wrapped around a small glass. He turned to her and motioned her to the table.

"I see you made it here without incident," he asked.

"Yes, no problems."

"What do you drink Ms Granger?"

"I'll have what you're having," she said.

He raised an eyebrow in a signature expression and motioned to the waiter to bring a round to his companion. The waiter sat it down in front of her and she looked at it for a moment. "What is it?" she asked him.

"Well," he said, "I'm not sure, but it's strong and I like it. The bartender won't tell me what's in it."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and tossed it back before Snape could stop her. She brought the glass down to the table with a bang and shook her head. "It's a sipping drink," he offered as she tried to refocus her eyes.

"Oi, I feel like I've been splinched," she said. "I think I'll have another."

Hermione didn't want to converse with Snape and he was grateful, he wasn't very good at small talk anyway. They sat together at the booth and drank in silence. As the evening grew later, Hermione had grown drunker and her ability to push at Snape was uneven. He never tried to look into her mind but he could feel her faltering.

"I think I'm done, Granger," he said, "Would you like an escort back to the castle?"

"No," she said standing up wobbly, "I got this." She tumbled out of the booth and her body felt too warm. She pushed the hood off her head as she bumped into a table.

"What the blazes," the stranger said, "gods, its Hermione Granger!"

She bumped her way out of the Three Broomsticks and into the snow covered street. Snape followed closely behind her. As she weaved her way back, she tripped on an uneven cobblestone and threatened to go arse over tea kettle onto the pavement. Snape grabbed her elbow to steady her. She jerked her arm away with a hiss and tried to murmur, "I shaid, I got dis" before passing out into the snow. Unsure of what to do, he picked her up and carried her back to the castle. _Bugger, _he thought, this did not go as he had planned.

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Hermione awoke and felt a spider had built a web in her mouth. When she cleared her vision, she was sure a hippogriff had been playing quidditch in her head. Molly Weasley sat in her living space with two cups of tea. "Good morning, Hermione," she said. Hermione only grumbled as she stumbled to the table.

"Been out and about?" she asked. Hermione grunted at her.

"Drink this, you'll feel loads better," Hermione took the tea and drank it down. She felt instantly better.

"That is some tea, Molly," Hermione said.

Molly laughed, "I have a lot of sons and they often don't make good choices."

"Why are you here?" she asked when she had her faculties about her.

"Ah, yes," she began, "Severus flooed me last evening after escorting you home from Hogsmeade, said you might need some looking after."

Hermione tried to put the pieces together in her head but all she could remember was getting about halfway down the road and then nothing. "Snape called you," she confirmed, "and you were here all evening?"

"Yes dear, of course. He followed you to make sure you made it to your rooms where I met him. I've been here since," she lied. Molly knew that any progress Hermione was making would have been reversed if she knew he had carried her back to the castle and placed her in her bed. Thank goodness he had the sense to call for her.

"Ah," she paused, "I'm going to be late for work."

"Oh yes," Molly said, "Severus said he had errands to run this morning and would meet you after lunch in the classroom. Something about potions supplies…"

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The truth was, Severus was hungover. He was tired, and he decided that drunk Hermione Granger dreams weren't much better than sober ones. Just when he would fall asleep, she would be dreaming about hair braiding with Ginny or she would be polishing her nails. Women could be terribly droll. When she woke up, he finally fell asleep, knowing he had at least four hours to sleep before they were to meet in the classroom.


	17. Chapter 17

Snape entered the classroom to find Hermione flipping through a large volume of what looked like Ministry documents. She acknowledged his entrance with a waver in her push. He stood near the door and gazed at the board where she was making notes.

"Professor Granger," he acknowledged.

"Professor Snape," she said, "Perhaps you can assist me with something."

"What do you require?"

"I'm trying to go through Ministry records to get a list of Death Eaters the Ministry has registered over the last five years. I need to cross off those that the Ministry is certain are deceased and note their deceased date. Unfortunately, some of the records are spotty so I need your…personal knowledge."

"Ah, yes. Show me what you have."

Hermione's push weakened and let him know that it was safe to move towards her. When he was about five feet from her, he could feel the intensity again and knew this was the distance she had set between them. Her list had hundreds of Death Eaters on it listed into columns: deceased or captured prior to Ginny Weasley's attack, those deceased or captured after the attack, and those with no information on."

He looked at the list. She stated, "I would like to be able to have a sense of the likelihood that those in the second column could have been at Ginny's attack and to be able to complete the information on those in the last column."

"This could take me some time, Professor," he told her. "Give me a few hours."

She nodded in agreement and went to a desk to grade papers.

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Several hours later, she heard the chalk tap against the tray indicating Snape had finished. She moved back towards the board as he surveyed his work. Working from memory, he had been able to help her with most of the list but they still had a hefty list of potential suspects.

"Still quite a few, eh," she said.

"I'm afraid so, Professor," he agreed, "Voldemort's followers were often hard to track, for obvious reasons."

"Any thoughts on what we should do next?" she asked.

"Only one," he offered, "I think we need to see Ms Weasley's memory again and see if we can narrow this list down some."

Hermione nodded, "That might help." She paused for a moment and moved to a bookshelf, pulling books out, flipping through them and replacing them until she found what she was looking for. "What do you know about this?" she asked. He read the spell she pointed at and raised his eyebrows slightly exasperated. "I know that only four people in the wizarding world have ever been able to make it work," he said.

She looked up at him confidently, "Let's make it five."

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The next morning, they arrived at St Mungo's without incident. Making their way upstairs, Hermione skipped the pleasantries with Pye and Menchum, going straight to Ginny's room. Snape kept his distance and settled on the other side of the room and watched Hermione's ritual. When Hermione had placed her lips on Ginny's, he felt a tug that nearly toppled him over and he was inside her mind again. Hermione gave him only a few moments to get his bearings and then moved through the web of memories to find the one she was looking for. He saw the same images of that day as before and when Hermione pulled his attention to the wanded hand coming from around the column, she froze the moment and uttered the spell. He could feel his magic being combined with hers in that moment and he felt weak, like a dementor was pulling his life force out of him. Just when he wanted to pull away, they saw what they needed, a silver-orange essence being drawn out of the caster and a wand that glowed ivory and crimson. Hermione slowly retreated and Severus could feel his magic returning to him. He was exhausted.

When he pulled himself together and found himself back in the hospital room, he was aroused by the experience. As he came to terms with this tired euphoria, he opened his mouth to congratulate Hermione on her work only to find her laid out on the floor at Ginny's feet. The red-haired witch was unaware of her presence, twitching her head to a steady rhythm.

"Gods!" he shouted, "Hermione!" He ran out into the hall and called, "I need help in here! Now!"

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Snape paced behind Molly Weasley in the Hogwarts infirmary. "Are you sure it was wise to move her, Molly?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, "I think she would much prefer to come to here instead of under the scrutiny of the healers at St Mungo's. Want to tell me what happened in there?"

"Well, Hermione cast the _Illustro Memoria_ spell in Ginny's mind."

She looked at him, "she cast an illuminating memory spell? Did it work?"

"It did," he answered, "she used all of her own magic, Ginny's latent magic, and my magic to cast that spell. Something, mind you, that only four wizards have ever done. She filled in the blanks of the memory as it were, extrapolated by recreating the magic of the caster and filling it out."

"Who cast that spell?" she asked, thinking of her daughter.

"I'm not sure, but Hermione knows, she was the one who cast the spell. I have an idea of who it was, I could see the essence of the wizard's aura and the magical signature of the wand, but I certainly hope I'm wrong," he said.

Molly looked at the sleeping form of Hermione Granger. "Is she dreaming Severus?"

He shook his head, "No, I don't think so. Her exhaustion is beyond dreams. She'll need several days to recover from this. That is a lot of magic to withhold in one's body while being linked with someone's subconsciousness. She could have killed herself."

"Well, let's give her rest. I will be back in a few hours, seems George charmed the teapot to sing to Arthur when he boils water in it. Unfortunately, it only sings obscene songs and we have guests coming round for dinner. I need to uncharm the teapot and find George Weasley…" she said.

"Very well, Molly, I will be here," he said, "please send Minerva in. Wouldn't want to be here alone should Ms Granger awake, you see."

She understood, "I'll stop in on her on my way out."

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Snape sat down in a chair near Hermione's bed in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was treating an epidemic of Cyrillian Dragon Flu in the next wing. He was tired but still feeling almost buzzed from the experience at the hospital. It seemed almost intimate to share that kind of power with someone. Snape went through the experience again in his head and focused on the essence of the wizard and the resonance of the wand. Only Hermione would know for sure but if he was right, this was going to get very, very complicated. As he thought of potential next steps, her eyes squinted tightly and she started to move her legs, kicking the sheets. She began to murmur and thrash wildly in the bed. Snape rushed over to her and knelt beside the bed. He wanted to reach over and touch her forehead, to reassure her that she was safe but he restrained. Her eyes popped open to see him and she screamed loudly before yelling at him, "MALFOY!"


	18. Chapter 18

"Professor Granger," he tried to say calmly, "It's Professor Snape, I'm not-"

"No," she said panting, "Malfoy threw that curse."

Snape was afraid that was the case. He didn't know what to do or say next so he waited for her to speak. She sat up on the edge of the bed and the color drained from her face.

"Of all the possible wizards we had on our list, it HAD to be Lucius Malfoy."

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Hermione couldn't return to her work for two days. When she joined Snape in the classroom two evenings later, she looked older, more tired than she had before. He had continued their work in her absence but was lonely. It seemed odd that given how little they actually spoke to one another, the absence of her company made him realize how much he was comforted by working in the same room with her. An odd thought, certainly.

"Professor Granger," he acknowledged.

"Mm," she grunted to him, "progress?"

"I believe so," he said almost excitedly, "what are your thoughts?" The parchment levitated towards her and she took it in her hands.

She nodded her head slightly as she read through his notes. "I think we've got it," she said, smiling towards him. He felt a dizzying rush as she smiled but tried to remain calm in its wake.

Hermione continued, "He cast a Cruciatus/Confundus hybrid curse. The frequency of his casting bounced against the remnants of the net. With that signature, the killing curse could only bind with one other curse."

He nodded and they spoke in unison, "_Convulsus animus."_ The shattered soul curse.

She felt an odd harmony when they spoke the name of the curse together and a pleasant sensation passed through her. Snape had the same feeling. It was warm and comforting and Snape wasn't entirely sure he liked it. They stood looking at each other for a few moments and the push against him was replaced by a pulse. He couldn't figure out at first what it was and then he recognized it, it was her heart beat.

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Severus and Hermione decided to spend the next few days theorizing possible counter curses to this dual hybrid. They worked silently but together in the classroom. Hermione's fierce push had evolved into a cautious thrum. Keeping a running list of possibilities on the board, they finally came to a point where they would have to make some decisions on which ones to try.

"I think we should try this one," she said, tapping the third item on the board.

"I think that's foolish," he said tiredly.

She looked cross, "why foolish? You have a better suggestion?"

"Yes, I think we should try this one," he said, pointing to his last suggestion on the other end of the board.

"That won't work," she said, "it doesn't make sense, there's no balance in it, it's too…"

"Well I think it WILL work!" he shouted at her without meaning to. His pent up frustration and desire to try his suggestion registered with the branding and she drew her hand up to her neck and cringed in pain. He regretted it instantly, "Hermione, I'm sorry," he started.

She looked at him once and left the classroom. He sighed and thought to himself, _bollocks._

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He didn't know why he followed her but he did. Kicking himself for his reckless impatience, he found her at the top of the astronomy tower, standing on the ledge, looking quietly over the nightscape before her. He stood there without speaking for a moment, looking at the tragic, beautiful woman's figure cut out by the moonlight. Snape was unsure of his own thoughts and feelings in that moment. Hermione turned around to see him standing across the tower and he saw her small pale face, the outline of the scar still visible in the semi-darkness. She turned her back to him and stared out at the darkness again.

He opened his mouth to apologize again, but she interrupted him, "You don't have to say anything."

"I need to say something," he told her, "Hermione, don't do anything…rash."

"I'm not going to jump if that's what you're thinking. I come up here to think," she said. He walked halfway across the tower to see her better, her profile outlined against the grey made her seem so much older and wiser than her 19 years belied. "Do you know what it's like to not to belong to yourself?" she asked him seriously.

He did, gods he did. Living the way he had for those many years, he understood what it was like. "Yes, I believe I do."

"Do you really?" she asked him again, "Do you know what it's like to not have any choices?"

"Yes, for those years with the Order-" he said before he was cut off.

"You don't know then do you? You took the mark under your own volition and although you regretted it, you still had a choice. The great Severus Snape, Death Eater turned spy, you gave yourself to the Order for your own redemption. I have no choices. I don't belong to myself. The only choice I have is here, standing on this ledge. I can take control of my own life only by choosing to end it."

"That won't solve anything," he told her.

"Won't it?" she asked him, "My life is finished. I will never be able to make my own choices."

He was confused for a moment, "Of course you will. You're bright and powerful. You can do anything you want to do."

"Not really," she said, "I will never be loved. No one will ever make love to me; I will never have a family; I am destined to the confines of this castle for the rest of my existence. I won't jump because choosing not to jump is the only choice I really have."

He felt his heart drop. The complexity of what had become Hermione Granger finally filled out for him and he understood that her darkness was certainly angry, but it was also deeply tragic. To save her life, to protect her, he had taken her life anyway, in another form. If that weren't enough, he had betrayed her and felt the immense guilt of having robbed her of any choice she might have had in her life. Snape wished he had granted her only request of him those many months ago.

"We need you," he said, unsure of what the right thing was to say, "Ginny needs you. Molly needs you. Your students need you. You still have so much to share with the world…" He was at a loss to comfort her; he just didn't know what to say.

"To live in fear," she said, softening her hardened veneer, "He's still out there you know." Snape knew she meant Malfoy. "He walks free. That may be the ultimate cruelty of this whole charade. I stay trapped in this castle and he roams free." Snape hated him and he hated himself for what he had allowed Malfoy to do to her. She was right, it wasn't fair. Everyone had their redemption; everyone breathed their sighs of relief when the war ended, but Hermione remained tormented by a man no one could find, a memory that she couldn't forget, and a life that wasn't her own. Even he, after those years of torment, had been freed and his life was once again his own.

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Exhaling, she said, "Tomorrow we need to see Ginny. We should finish what we've begun." She stepped down from the ledge, pulled her hood over her head and walked out, leaving him to watch her retreating form. In the darkness, the stillness, he listened to his own heart beat, his own heart break as the full realization of what he had done washed over him.


	19. Chapter 19

Hermione was already at the hospital when he arrived. She had Ginny's hands in hers and was talking to her as if she understood she was there. Snape could see Ginny's head jerking slightly in a steady rhythm. Hermione placed Ginny's hands back in her lap and stood up to address him.

"I will need your help," she said, "I don't have enough power to do this by myself. We will cast a weak version of the spell we have and see if there is any effect. From there, we should be able to tell if we have the right one. Once we know, we can finish the potion and come back."

He nodded his agreement to her. "Are you ready?" she asked him and he nodded again as she bent down, moving her hands up Ginny's arms, taking her freckled face in her trembling hands, and placing her forehead against her friend. Severus leaned against the wall this time, bracing for the pull that would imbed him into the young witch's subconscious. Hermione's lips met Ginny's and he was swept into her head once again. Hermione communicated wordlessly to him but he knew exactly what to do. Centering his magic, he felt them connect, and they cast a weak spell to watch for any results. Minutes passed and there was nothing. She cast the spell again and waited. Over and over, she tried to cast the spell but nothing changed for her friend. Tired and frustrated, she began to pull her way out, dragging Severus along behind her. When he opened his eyes, Hermione still had her forehead pressed against Ginny's and she muttered, "I'm sorry, Ginny. I'm sorry."

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Hermione was in a foul mood when they returned to the castle. As they worked in the classroom, she slammed books onto the tables, startling Severus from his own reading with each bang.

"Hermione, I can assure you that abusing the books will have no effect on our problem," he told her.

"It should have worked," she said, pouting slightly. "I've been over this dozens of times. It should have worked."

He agreed. Snape was a complete loss to understand why their spell had no effect, not even a small one.

"We can't keep going in there and trying things out on her, we'll destroy her if we're not careful. This is right, I'm sure of it," she said.

They sat in quiet contemplation for a minute and Snape ran through all of the work they had done on the problem. Then, something occurred to him.

"The net," he said.

"What about it?" she asked him.

"Who was holding the net together?"

"Harry, Ron, and Draco were using their magic to hold the net together while Ginny and I were casting to absorb the curses into it. Why?"

"Harry, Ron, and Draco," he said questioningly.

"Yes. Harry, Ron, and Draco. What are you playing at?" she asked.

"The net works by balance, correct? A balance of different magic of different casters."

She nodded.

"So that means, that the three of them had to have created a resonance that kept the net together for the curses to absorb. That means, that in order to undo it-"

"We have to have the right balance of casters in the counter spell," she finished.

"Exactly," he said.

Hermione began to think aloud, "Harry and Ron, good wizards and Draco, wrapped in darkness but choosing the light. We can't undo this without the same balance."

He looked at her, knowing she had figured out what would have to happen to create this balance again. "I will need your help," she said, "and we should finish the potion."

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What they were going to do was risky and they both knew it. They had one chance to do this without shattering Ginny's mind into a thousand tiny pieces. Hermione realized that when she pulled Snape into Ginny's subconscious that she was in control, she was leading him around but what she needed was his equal push against her to create a resonance. She wasn't sure if she could do it.

Hermione sat in her rooms, staring at the fireplace when she felt Molly approach. She entered Hermione's room and sat down beside her.

"No, 'hello Molly'," she asked her.

Hermione sighed. "I don't know what to do," she admitted, "I assume he told you what we have to do."

"Yes," she told the young woman, "yes he did."

Hermione looked into the older woman's eyes, "I don't know if I can do it."

Molly understood her trepidation. To make this work, Hermione had to give up enough power to let him push his magic against hers. She needed the redemptive magic of a soul of dark magic given over to the light and Severus Snape was that soul. For this to really work, Hermione would have to let her guard down, would have to let him in enough so that their magic could work together, not her drawing his magic off of him and channeling it through herself. Hermione would have to let him into her own mind, and she wasn't sure she could do it.

"Hermione, I understand your hesitance," Molly told her, "But, Severus Snape is a good man. He's a difficult man, a complex man, and an utter annoyance most of the time, but never once did he betray Dumbledore or the Order."

She had been thinking it for so long, she finally blurted it out, "But he could betray me. He could keep Dumbledore's secrets and the Order's secrets. He didn't betray them. He didn't lie to them. He didn't even betray Harry." She was silent for a moment, "What did I do to make him hate me so much? Why was I, in this whole bloody war, the one expendable?"

Molly was lost for words. She wanted to pour out every detail of what Severus did, wanted to tell Hermione how much he blamed himself, how much he was punishing himself for what happened to her, but she knew she couldn't. She needed to be careful with her words. Molly knew that Hermione would have to figure this out, make it real for herself in her own way.

"Hermione," she said, "I don't claim to understand the complexities of Severus Snape. And I don't claim to understand what happened during those weeks. But I can tell you that he is a good man. He has done dark things, and he has suffered because of them." Hermione was silent. She continued on, "Do you trust me?" she asked her. Hermione snapped her eyes up to her, "Of course I do, you know that."

Molly went on, "Then trust me when I tell you that I trust him completely." Hermione didn't know what to do with that right then but it did give her a lot to think about.

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Snape had stewed the barbed figs to a desired tenderness and added them to the potion. It would need to simmer for two days to reach the potency needed for it to work. He needed two days as well to prepare for himself. This wasn't fair. As Snape thought about the task before them, her words in the astronomy tower resounded in his head. She had no choices. For months she had been keeping him out, her small victory against everything that had happened and now she had to let go of that as well. The war was over and everyone had won but Hermione. She was still suffering for his failure, still suffering for someone else. She was a hero, but no one ever told her as much, not really. Lost in his own thoughts of how the next few days would unfold, the night crept on.


	20. Chapter 20

When Hermione awoke, she knew it was time, the day they would make their attempt. They had one more chance to save Ginny and this was it. Hermione roamed the halls of the castle in thought, listening to the silence of an empty Hogwarts. The term had ended and most of the students had returned home. Only a few remained and those were sleeping soundly in their rooms, dreaming pleasant dreams. Dawn had barely started to break and she found herself in the classroom where she and Snape had spent so much of the last few months. Mechanically, she walked over to the parchments that detailed how the day would transpire and read over them.

Hermione didn't know Snape had been there most of the night doing the same thing. He had examined and re-examined the notes they had made until he was too tired to think. When he woke a few hours later, he collected himself to meet Hermione at the gates. They would apparate with McGonagall and Molly Weasley to St Mungo's.

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Hermione was anxious but tried to remain calm. Molly had looked at her so hopefully, aware that there were two possibilities: Ginny would be returned, whole or she would be lost forever. Aware that Hermione was feeling the weight of this task pressing heavily on her, Molly tried to seem as calm as possible but Hermione knew that she was nervous.

The foursome walked the familiar staircases and met the two healers in Ginny's room. Cloaks were removed wordlessly and hung by the door. It was now or never, and Hermione settled herself in front of Ginny as Snape moved closer to the twitching redhead, close enough to see her face, to watch Hermione's ritual in intimate detail. Minerva held the vial of potion in her hand. When the two had disconnected from Ginny, it was vital she deliver the potion within seconds. If they could undo the curse but not be able to seal the fissure, Ginny's mind would shatter into a million little pieces.

Snape cleared his mind, pushing back his own nervousness and trepidation. He watched Hermione connect with the young witch, settling her twitching hands over her friends that sat unmoving on the arms of the chair. Their lips touched together and Severus was drawn in, slowly.

Unlike the times before, Hermione didn't lead him to the darkness, but waited on him. He could feel her magic in that space as well as he could feel his own. The next move would be entirely Hermione's. If she could not open herself to him, they could not move forward. For several moments, she contemplated her next move, filled with reservations, remembering his betrayal, while trying to hold onto Molly's trust in him.

Slowly, she began to open her mind to him and he waited for several moments before pushing in. He could feel her fear as he occupied the space with her. She calmed, still cautious, but open to him sharing her magic. They pushed together to the spot in the darkness where they would cast their spell. She would cast one half while he would cast the other simultaneously, and they would have to work against the residue of the lingering curse together until it dissipated completely.

She didn't need to direct him as they began the spell on each side. In order for the spell to work, she would have to force her spell against his while pushing against the force he placed on her spell. Hermione knew what would happen but pressed on.

As he began to push against her and she him, the branding registered her resistance and began to send pain radiating from her neck throughout her body. He felt it and knew what was happening but she warned him wordlessly not to let up. As their spells worked against each other creating a harmonic that worked against the curse, they began to see changes in the darkness. They both thought that it was working but the vibration that intensified had begun to fade.

Snape knew that while they had to work against each other, their combined magic, working together was also necessary and it wasn't strong enough to penetrate. Instinctively, he slid behind Hermione, pressing his chest into her back and reached around her, placing his hands atop Hermione's covering them. A surge of magic pushed through and the vibration intensified once again.

The exertion was immense. As Ginny's darkness vibrated more intensely, Hermione pushed more of her own magic towards her goal. They both increased their push in tandem, and unexpectedly, Hermione's own mind broke through Snape's and they were simultaneously awash in each other's memories. Their magic and their memories were intertwined. In a flash, she had relived his torment, the anguish of finding her broken, of his guilt in being unable to protect her, and his growing fondness for her. It was overwhelming and as she matched his memories point for point with her own, a complete picture of what transpired formed for her.

When the vibration had intensified and the gold blasted through, Hermione and Snape pulled out of Ginny's mind and McGonagall administered the potion. Stepping back, still entwined, Snape's hands were still on top of Hermione's. He raised her arms with his own and wrapped them around her. Severus pressed his forehead against the back of Hermione's head and closed his eyes. Her head dropped softly to her chest and looking down he could see his own mark on her neck, striations pulsing around it like stretch marks on skin. The pain that she had experienced had been severe, first at Malfoy's hands then every time her body registered his displeasure or her perceived disobedience.

With her still pressed against his chest, he felt her body begin to tremble slightly. She was crying. She was crying the first tears she had dared to cry since those many months ago, when he had found her. Hermione wept for her pain, for Ginny's release, and for Severus' torment. She hated herself for what she had done to him and surges of mixed emotions overtook her. He wanted her to be free as much as she did and she realized that he would do anything to give her that release. His guilt was still beating hard in his own heart.

Anguish, desperation, and guilt played for Hermione's attentions. He pulled her tighter against him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to her. She nodded and continued to sob softly.

"I know," she responded.

Snape pulled her against him, wrapped them in his cloak and escorted her out. Before they could get to the stairs, her cries came faster and harder, and she crumpled to a pile at his feet. As healers began to pop out of their rooms to see what the commotion was, he picked her up to carry her out and back to the castle. As she continued to softly sob into his chest, she placed a hand over his heart. He had never felt so complete in his whole miserable life. He wanted more than anything to ease her pain, to finally set her free.


	21. Chapter 21

Hermione drifted in and out of sleepy consciousness for some time, capturing snapshots of things happening around here. She saw his face, felt his hands hold her own, and watched the swirl of robes that signified his presence. When she would just come to the edge, where she could pull her eyes open, she fell back to sleep, fighting to stay awake until a reassuring whisper and a gentle brush of her forehead lulled her back to sleep.

Severus watched her sleep, felt the absence of her dreams and a sense of peace that had overtaken her since those moments at the hospital. Her terror and her pain were palpable when their memories were linked, and he felt the pull of his own heart as he could see how much she had gone through in those months. He was overtaken by a sense of calm that lulled him into something that resembled happiness, something that he was unaccustomed to but knew he could get used to as time went on. Watching the small, severe woman sleeping in the bed, he felt a surge of emotions deep within. They were anxious, happy, and vengeful all in the same instance. As he collected his thoughts, the rhythm of Hermione's breathing helped him focus, and he knew what he wanted; he wanted her happiness and her freedom.

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Hermione crossed the threshold of sleepiness to see the outline of a figure beside her. As she brought the figure into focus, she could first discern fiery red hair and a face that was shifting from a wide smile.

"Heya sleepyhead," she said. Hermione adjusted her eyes to see her friend before her and she felt lifted, a weight that had burdened her was suddenly gone.

"Ginny?" Hermione muttered, half asking, half exclaiming.

"Of course, how many other redheads do you know? Wait, don't answer that," Ginny joked.

"I can't believe it," Hermione said as she sat up, "it's really you, you're ok?"

"Yes, I'm ok. Thanks to you and Professor Snape," she replied.

Hermione looked around for the familiar figure. His absence was palpable in her mind. Having shared such an intimate experience with him, she could feel the disconnect much stronger. She searched for him but her mind was still too tired, and she knew he would have to be very far from her for there to be such a void.

"Where is he?" Hermione asked Ginny.

"Oh," Ginny replied, "he had something to attend to. He didn't say anymore. Just told Mum that he needed to be away for a bit."

"Did he say when he was coming back?" Hermione asked.

"No," she replied, "Just that he had something to do and would be away."

His absence tugged at her in a way she had never experienced and she was unsure what to do with it or what it meant. Closing her eyes, she collected her thoughts and realized that what she wanted at this moment was him near her, in that room at that instant. Ginny sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Hermione in to her.

"I missed you," she said.

Hermione nodded, "I missed you too. Did you know I was there?"

Ginny's eyes started to tear up, "Every time."

"A lot has happened since that night when you were hit with the curse," Hermione told her.

"I know," she replied, "I know everything that happened."

Hermione looked at her for a few moments trying to figure out her meaning.

"Every time we connected, every time you were in my head, I could see inside you. It was almost like…a reflection of sorts, I could see your memories and on the last day, I saw his too," she said.

"Then you know?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, I know," Ginny responded.

There were no more words that needed to be said between them. Ginny crawled into bed with Hermione and they lay together until they both fell asleep.

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As Hermione recovered, each day she sat with her friend and they talked. They talked about everything but Hermione's feelings. Walking outside the castle, Ginny and Hermione said little and Ginny noticed her friend deeply lost in her own thoughts.

"Hermione," Ginny started, "what's bothering you?"

"Nothing," Hermione answered curtly.

"You can't lie to me Hermione Granger," she responded, "you know you can't."

Thinking it for days but having no one to say it to, the words finally tumbled out of her: "He's gone." She sat in the wet snow and put her head in her hands. Ginny kneeled beside her, "Who's gone Hermione?"

"Severus, he's gone. He left. I don't know why. I don't know what I did. No, that's not true. I do know. I was cruel to him, Ginny. I was mean and cruel and didn't even think about what he was going through. And now, we're finished working and he left." She began to cry softly. "He hates me. He must hate me."

"Oh, Hermione," Ginny said, "he doesn't hate you. Really, he doesn't."

Hermione didn't, couldn't believe her. She hated herself for what she had done during those months. He had tried and had given her every inch of space she demanded only to be punished by her.

"If he doesn't hate me, then why did he leave while I was still sleeping? He could have waited but he was so relieved to be done that he's left." The black pools of Hermione's eyes registered a deep regret, a deep pain at what she had done. Ginny wanted to reassure her but she had no answer to her question.

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The days moved slowly and painfully by. Hermione walked around the castle, allowing the snow to numb her as her thoughts engulfed her. She felt overwhelmed by his pain and his regrets and by her own inability to see through her own pain to recognize his. For everything she had said and done those last months, she was painfully regretful. She knew that as much as she was branded to him, he was chained to her, a heavy weight that kept him from moving on after the war, after the years of being a spy. His redemption was not complete. There was only one way she could show him how sorry she was, only one way to free him from her.

Hermione stood in front of the mirror in her room, tracing the scar down her face with her finger. The person that stood before her was only a pale shadow of the person she was, and she couldn't find anything in the reflection worth fighting for. After everything that had happened, she wanted to ease his pain. She pulled her cloak off and hung it by the door then made her way to the tower.

The cold wind cut through as she walked toward the window, the aperture opening larger and larger to swallow her. She stepped onto the ledge and looked out over the grounds. They were beautiful. In the darkness and stillness, they were a sight to behold. She closed her eyes and reached out to him once more, _I'm sorry. _Hermione felt there was but one choice left. She muttered lightly, "I'm sorry, Severus, forgive me."


	22. Chapter 22

With her eyes tightly closed, a tear ran down her face, whispering to the darkness her regrets she counted her breaths until the right moment came. Over and over, she reached out into the night repeating her mantra, _Severus, I'm sorry,_ and as the breaths came closer and she was ready to release them both, she heard a whisper returned, _Hermione. _She opened her eyes and scanned the ground below her to find the source of the words but the moon was covered by the clouds and there were only shadowed shadows below her. Again, she heard her name, echoing in her mind, and she realized that he was near, she felt him somewhere, and she instinctively stepped off the ledge and headed for the stairs, picking up speed as the voice became louder and her heart raced faster.

When she reached the front doors of the castle, the voice was calling her so strongly that she felt pain in her chest from the separation, an ache of longing that she wasn't sure what to do with. Following the voice as it repeated, she walked toward the forest where a looming figure stood propped against a tree in clear discomfort. Running toward the figure, she could see his dark hair hang down the side of his face and she burst into a run, crashing into him in the darkness. He pulled her close to him with his free arm. As she buried himself in his shoulder, he pulled her closer, placing his lips on the top of her head. She felt safe and complete.

He drew her away from him for a moment and looked into her grey eyes. As she blinked her eyes closed, he could see the scar over her eyelid and down her face, but no sight was ever more beautiful. Drawing a hand to her cheek, she leaned into the gesture and she saw everything she needed to see, where he had been, what he had been doing. As he caught glimpses of what she had been about to do, he pulled her in tightly, and they held onto each other for some time before she helped him back into the castle.

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Severus was tired. Finding Lucius Malfoy had been no easy feat and resisting the urge to kill him on the spot was even harder. His confrontation with him had been infuriating, the blonde man's laughter at Severus' charges against him had emblazoned him with a fury that was before unknown to him. Severus felt fortunate that he had alerted Harry and the other aurors to his plan when he neared Lucius' hideout. Had they arrived one moment later, he would have found himself before the Wizengamot for the murder of Lucius Malfoy.

He slept. His body was tired from the exertion of magic at the hospital and even more tired from his days long search and fight with Malfoy. Now, back in his own rooms, he had time to recover. Before falling asleep for a good long sleep, he played Hermione's memories over and over in his mind. He knew it then, it would never be clearer than in the moment at the tree, he loved her.

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Hermione sat with her hands wrapped tightly around her teacup, her red-haired friend sitting across from her, patiently waiting for Hermione to speak.

"He's being held," she started, "Malfoy is being held for trial."

Ginny said nothing. She knew Hermione had to work through it on her own.

"I was so wrong, Ginny," Hermione said looking at her, "so wrong. He didn't leave here because he hated me; he left here to find Malfoy _for_ me."

Ginny hesitated before responding, "That doesn't seem like something a man who hates you would do. He cares for you, Hermione. He truly, deeply cares for you. I could feel that at the hospital and I think if you let yourself open to this, you'll realize it."

Hermione said nothing, just sipped her tea in deep thought.

Ginny asked her, "How do you feel about him?"

Hermione didn't know. It had been so clear those months ago how she felt about Severus Snape. Everything she had thought and felt about him had been wrong. She thought he had betrayed her, but he had done everything to try to save her, protect her. She thought he had ignored her when she was calling for him, but he had never heard her. She thought he was unmoved by the ordeal, but he had tortured himself every night by what he could have done, what he felt he should have done. And she thought that he had abandoned her, but he had left to find her tormentor, to try to give her some peace. When she came upon him in the forest and wrapped herself up in him, she felt relieved, completed. She realized that the brand on her neck made no difference, she belonged to Severus Snape because she loved him.

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Hermione made her way nervously to Severus' rooms. She didn't know if he would happy to see her. Sitting in her own rooms, her anxiety had reached such a level that if she didn't do something, she was afraid she would come undone. She wasn't sure what she was going to say to him. Hermione Granger was not usually a person lost for words but as she took the stairs down towards the potions classroom, she realized that she had no idea how to start or what to say; she wasn't entirely sure why she was going down to see him in the first place, she just knew she needed to.

As she got closer, she could feel that he was awake, stirring around, and he stopped when he recognized her approaching him. She could feel his breath hitch for a minute and his heart start to beat a little faster. It made her smile slightly to know that her intended presence would be welcomed.

He had sat downstairs because he couldn't find a reason to go to her. Gods knew he wanted to, just wanted to see her again for no reason than to be near her. He puttered about hoping to have some inspiration to go to her and was relieved and excited when he registered her coming to him. He was worried his heart was going to come out of his chest as he walked to the door. The movement of opening the door to the woman walking down his hall was fluid, as if she had willed the door open and glided in. Closing the door behind them, he looked at the small woman in the middle of his sitting room, her back to him, her breathing slightly out of control. He leaned against his own door and waited for her to say something, do something because he certainly didn't know what to do next.

Standing there together, she relaxed and tried to get control of her feelings by timing her breathing to a steady rhythm. She turned to him, taking in his form. Clad in black trousers and a black shirt, his pale feet were a sharp contrast against the rest of the wash of black. His hair hung limply down the sides of his face and he looked back at her with no expectation.

The woman staring at him across the room was cautious. He was settled against the door to give her space, allowing himself time to take in the entirety of the being that was Hermione Granger. She was small, her closely cropped black hair made her seem even more small and fragile but the grey eyes and scarred face contrasted this and beheld a powerful but wounded woman. The shaking, scarred hands at her sides made him pain slightly as he drew up the memories that had left their imprint physically on her body. He wondered if she was reminded of the ordeal in the dungeon every time she saw her own hands working, her face in the mirror, and he wondered how often she had looked at herself and thought of him. He didn't have to ask the question. She walked towards him purposefully and wrapped her arms around his waist. Pulling her close to him, drawing his arms around her, they settled against the wall together.

"Every time," she said. "Every time I look at it I think of you."

His heart wanted to break right then. She looked up at him and drew her shaking hands to pull his face down so she could look into his eyes. She told him wordlessly that she had forgiven him, and as his head dropped in relief, she pulled herself up to him and drew his lips into a kiss.


	23. Chapter 23

Severus was both surprised and unsurprised by Hermione in that moment. There was no other way the encounter could have concluded except in a moment of passion. As the kiss deepened, he stopped thinking. With the severe, beautiful woman pressed against him, he closed his eyes and leaned in to her kisses.

Hermione slowly extracted herself from Severus' lips. She moved her hands to rest on his chest and leaned her head against her hands. She was worried she had done the wrong thing. Worried that it was something that she wanted but he didn't want, and she worried what would happen next. As her mind began to work out the details of possible endings to the evening, she became increasingly frantic. Severus recovered from his drunken euphoria to hear thoughts swirling, second-guessing herself for her actions. He had been absent mindedly stroking her back with his hands and as her agitation grew, he placed a hand on her chin and drew it up. Looking into her eyes, she seemed scared, no, not scared, nervous, unsure about how this could end. Her eyes looked pleadingly into his and he closed his eyes, leaning in to kiss her once before picking her up in his arms.

She was so small. He was always overwhelmed by this but carrying her towards the bedroom with her head on his chest, her body seemed to fit perfectly with his. Severus carefully laid her on the bed and leaned over her, one knee on the bed, to kiss her again. This kiss was more frantic than the previous ones. A sense of urgency, a need to reach some completion, created a feverish tempo in their kisses. Her body had responded to him and she had opened herself ever the more to him as he balanced over her. When the kiss was broken, she reached for his shirt and began to slowly undo the buttons. Pushing the shirt away from his chest, she ran her hand along him, feeling the ripple of lean muscle beneath.

Her touch was warm and he closed his eyes as she stroked his chest in the darkness. When her hands had settled at his sides, he reached down to pull her shirt over her head. Instinctively, she pushed her shirt down across her stomach.

"No," she said, shaking her head. He was confused, it seemed like they were moving in this direction and he began to panic on where he had gone wrong. Registering his anxiety, she put a hand on his chest and closed her eyes.

"It's not that," she told him, "I don't want you to see it. It's ugly."

"We all have our scars, Hermione," he said, then took his shirt off to reveal the white, raised flesh where the dark mark once was.

Looking at him for the first time, without a shirt on, he seemed so much more human to her. She silently gave her approval and he moved once again to remove her shirt. Pulling the top over her head, for the first time, he could see the scar's trail down her neck and chest, ending just below her left breast. Moving slowly, he bent down to kiss her again, swiftly on the lips before kissing her neck, just below the ear, and then down to her collarbone. His warm body against hers was beginning to madden her. As his lips rested on the rise of her breasts, she shifted and raised herself to him. He moved a hand behind her back and made swift work of her bra.

The abandonment of his lips on her chest caused her anxiety to heighten. When he returned his attentions to her, his mouth placed gentle kisses along the rise of her breasts and when he reached her nipple, he softly took in his mouth, causing her eyes to open widely and a gasp of his name to escape her lips.

Hermione ran her fingers through his hair while he sucked lightly at her nipples and he felt her arch beneath him at his ministrations. His own ability to stay in control was waning, and he knew she could feel his heightened arousal against her. He kissed his way back to her mouth and she pulled him closer to her, missing the feeling of his warmth against her naked chest.

She pushed Severus slightly so she could see him more clearly in the darkness. Tracing a scar that ran from his side down past his navel, she felt the sharp intake of air as she reached the waistband of his trousers. Undoing them, she pushed them over his hips and he quickly slid them down and over his feet. Leaning above her, completely naked, he wanted to be cautious. The look she gave him invited him closer and he reached down to remove her trousers as well. Sliding them past her hips and over her ankles, he moved back up her body, lightly resting himself on her. Her hands trembled in their usual way as she placed them on his shoulders and then ran them down his arms.

Severus closed his eyes. She was slowly memorizing him with her hands. Running her hands up and down his sides, he felt her gentle touch as it moved over his ribcage. When the rhythm had slowed, he lay down beside her, giving himself an opportunity to touch her skin, the pads on his fingers registering every pore. The back of his hand ran the length of her torso, caressing her gently until he moved his palm over her hipbone causing her to squirm beneath him. Severus ran a hand down her leg and noticed how small her feet were, his large hand covering the top of her foot with such ease. The back of his hand traced its way back up the inside of her leg and brushed over her warm center.

Hermione felt him beside her. She knew he was aroused and ready and she knew that he was being careful with her. As he touched the insides of her legs and lightly brushed her center, she shifted underneath him, opening her legs slightly for him. When he touched her, she thought she was going to come undone. Gently, slowly, and lovingly, he touched her, feeling her wet heat. As he placed a finger inside her, she held her breath for a moment until the rhythmic movement of his fingers inside lulled her into a rocking of her own. Tending to her in that way, she felt loved but incomplete. Trying to adjust him over her, she looked into his eyes and kissed him deeply, passionately. Now atop her, he had a hand cupping her breast while the other braced himself over her, afraid that his weight would crush her beneath him.

Their kisses reached a fevered peak and she adjusted again under him, moving her thighs to allow him access. He pulled away from their kiss to whisper, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she whispered back, "Are you?"

His next movement answered her question as he positioned himself above her and slowly filled her up. When he found himself inside, he stilled for a moment to allow her to adjust her breathing which had become erratic in those last moments. Severus began rocking into her softly, slowly, and watched her draw her hands over her head in a cat like stretch before locking them around his neck. Her movements began to match his point for point. Drawing her legs up around him to allow him deeper access, he growled with delight at the warmth surrounding him. His pace quickened and she was starting to pant softly beneath him. He knew she was close and it took everything he had not to finish at that moment. When he felt her begin to shudder, he increased his rhythm until he too was on the precipice, and in a moment, she gasped, tightening around him and he too found his release. The final strokes emptied him into her.

Hermione was trying to recover but as she came to her end, the back of her neck began tingling warmly and an intense rush radiated around the branding, heightening her orgasm to a level she had never before experienced. Unable to focus or breath, she pulled Severus close to her and held on to him as the aftermath of her orgasm continued to pulse through her entire body. She couldn't see but when she opened her eyes, Severus thought something looked different about her in the moonlight; she seemed softened by the encounter and he saw eyes that shone an ice blue, with streaks of cool grey radiating from her pupils.

The magic between them slowed, and he rolled off of her. Lying facing her, he pulled her shaking hands into his and kissed them softly. She looked at him intently.

"Will it be like that next time?"

"Do you want there to be a next time?" he asked.

"I want there to be many more next times," she answered.

She rolled onto her side and he pulled her against his chest. He wanted more next times too. As the woman tucked into his body fell into a steady sleep, he too drifted off with his arms protectively embracing her.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: I struggled with whether to tie this up here or to go on. As I thought about it, I realized that there is more than one possible ending to this story. For a tidy ending, this chapter serves as the last for _Finite Incantatem_. However, if you would like to pick up my second story _Priori Incantatem_, it will begin where the last chapter left off and has a storyline that evolves with loose ends from FI. It is up to you. PI due to be uploaded early next week.

Severus stirred as the light peeked through the draperies. He was deliciously exhausted as he recalled their middle of the night lovemaking. A smile crept across his lips as he looked at the sleeping woman beside him. Facing away from him, she lay on her side and he watched her chest rise and fall in the steady breathing of her slumber. Seeing her for the first time in the light, he was swept into her physical presence. The black haired woman lying naked beside him was peaceful. He could see the lightly faded scars on her back and the brand at the base of her neck, the striations still present, deeply outlining her soft skin. Her fingers twitched slightly while she slept.

Her chest rose and fell, sleeping soundlessly beside him and he was overcome by the memories of the evening before. Hermione stirred as she felt Severus' gaze on her and she lay awake with her back to him for some time before turning to him. In her own way, she was scared. She was scared of what the evening before had meant to him, if anything at all, and she was scared for him to see her, naked, for the first time in the light. For all her power and strength, she was still unsure about herself.

Severus sensed that she was awake and began to run a finger down her back, tracing over each scar. When he reached her neck, he placed a thumb over his mark, the branding and wished he knew what to do next. He wanted her freedom and he wished to himself that he had done things differently. Sensing his worry, Hermione slowly rolled over to face him. She pulled the sheets up to cover her chest and looked at the dark man, propped up on an elbow.

"Good morning," she began nervously.

"Good morning," he returned.

They lay in uncomfortable silence for several minutes. Hermione was beginning to panic slightly. He didn't know what to say to her and for her that could only mean he wanted to apologize.

"I can go," she choked out. She moved to the edge of the bed and Severus searched for the right thing to say to her. He wanted to tell her how much the previous evening meant to him but there were no words.

"I sense that you regret what happened," she said with her back to him. "If you prefer, we can not speak of this again."

That wasn't what he was thinking at all and he was stunned by the turn her mind had taken.

"No, wait. I don't regret it at all," he said.

"It's ok. I understand. I'm not sure what I expected to happen when you saw me this morning," she offered.

As she moved to rise out of the bed, he placed a hand gently on her arm.

"Please don't go. I want you to stay here," he told her honestly.

"Severus, I can feel the way you're looking at me and you're probably thinking what a mess I am. It's ok. I know it's hideous," she told him.

"Hermione, there is no other creature in this world that I want to be with. You're wrong. I find you strikingly beautiful. You are a work of art and I look at you so intently because I can't believe you're here with me."

She wanted to believe him, to believe in him. Letting go, she opened herself to him and he to her. Hermione turned to him and cautioned, "Don't break me, Severus Snape."

"I promise," he said.

"I've been running around in circles for months and I can't keep doing it. It has almost killed me," she confessed.

He pulled her down beside him. "I know. I promise Hermione, I promise to take care of you."

She nodded and rested beside him for some time before they were due for breakfast in the Great Hall.

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Hermione and Severus entered the Great Hall together. Only the faculty was at breakfast and they strode to the table and sat down in their respective seats.

"Good morning, Professor Granger," McGonagall said.

Hermione looked at her and smiled brightly, "Good morning, Professor McGonagall."

She saw it then. She saw the old Hermione Granger, no, not the old one, a new one, a blend of the two powerful, bright women. Her blue-grey eyes told her that Hermione had emerged from the depths and had come out whole. Whatever had happened, she was grateful for it. When she looked at Snape sitting down the table, he caught her eye and nodded slightly.

It was going to be ok. All of them would be ok.

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"Are you ready?" he asked.

"I'm scared," she admitted.

They stood at the end of Diagon Alley, Hermione without her hooded cloak for the first time since the war ended. It was a big step for her, to go out, to be with people, to show her face when anything could happen.

"I know you are," he told her, "I'll protect you."

Hermione smiled at him as he took her hand.

"I trust you," she said.

And with that, they walked hand in hand into the street, holding onto each other, leaving the past in the dust behind them.

A/N: And that's the end, folks. Thanks for coming along.


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